


I'll hunt you down

by ButterflyBones



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Bonding, Hunters, Kid Fic, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Sassy Peter, Sheriff Stilinskis Name is Johnatan, Slow Build, bffs Stiles & Jackson, don't make Stiles angry, looks like i'm terrible at tagging, short John but is family and friends call him Nate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 69,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1401040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyBones/pseuds/ButterflyBones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only dayes after they defeat the nogitsune Stiles suddenly disappears. The smell of strange men in his room. But where ever they look, Stiles stays missing. Until two years later, when he just stands infront of his house, a six year old werewolf-girl by his side. And while everyone is simply happy to have Stiles back, Derek realise that the boy knows a lot more about his kidnappers then he tells. Or why the passing omega is terrified of ‘little Red’ - Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming back

**Author's Note:**

> Omg. So this is my very first fic ever (we all have to start at some point). Please bear with me. Anyway, first things first, but not necessarily in that order (... wrong fandom)
> 
> 1\. Unbeta'd  
> 2\. english isn't my first language and I know I have some troubles with grammar - sorry  
> 3\. I call the Sheriff sometimes John (for everyone) and sometimes Nate (for family and pack), because Jonathan is a cool name!  
> 4\. Ignores final of 3B - I'm still not over Erica and Boyd. No way I'm going to except .. THAT! hmpf.  
> 5\. I do not own Teen Wolf. Obviously.

Beacon Hills. California. Just big enough for its own hospital. And while it was as nice as it sounded most of the time, over the last years the number of unusual deaths grew suspiciously. Luckily only a few people knew the truth. Otherwise the life of the werewolves would have been more complicated then it already was.

A Kanima, an Alpha Pack, evil Druid, a colourful collection of psychopaths and High school was enough for a lifetime, yet alone for a single year. The biggest problem wasn't the big bad of the month itself but the time between. Or moreover the lack of it. The Pack had barley time to lick its psychological wounds. Physical wounds weren't that much of a matter for freaking werewolf healing.

They did their best to protect the human members. Which was a hard enough task itself. Partly because the humans refused plain to stay at home where it was safe and throw themselves in danger. And partly because everyone evil and not especially human thought they were an easy target, a good start to weaken the Pack. Not that it worked.

 

Only a few days after their last showdown and victory over the nogitsune, Allison and Ethan still badly wounded from the fight with some Onis, the next catastrophe was discovered way to late. Stiles, not yet recovered from being the nogitsunes vessel, plagued with nightmares was gone from one day to the other.

His father came home from work every few hours to check on him. To worried that Stiles might get another panic attack and needed help. But for a big part it was for himself, just so he could see that his son was home, safe and sound. The last time he checked on him Stiles was sleeping. Finally. To scared to even close his eyes, that he would wake up trapped again in his own body, realising that it was only a trick, a wish, Stiles pushed himself until he passed out from exhaustion. He pointed out everything he could think of, promised him that all was over, but Stiles wouldn't listen. Whispering that it wasn't the first time he heart him vowing these words. The next time the Sheriff came home Stiles was gone.

Fighting down his own panic, assured himself that Stiles probably just woke up from another nightmare and went to Scott so he wouldn't be alone. No need to worry, really. And yet, something didn't seemed to be right. He called Scott. Then Melissa, hoping and fearing that he might have gone to the hospital. Then Isaac, Chris and finally Derek. No one had seen his son.

 

 

"Where is my Son?" The Sheriff lost count how often he cried, asked, demanded and shouted these words in the last three hours. His house full of werewolves and policemen. Finally he was to exhaust to do more than sitting on Stiles bed, head in his hands, silently pleading.

"Sir, maybe he just .. I mean it's not the first time we had to search for him these past weeks. So maybe he .." The young officer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. He lived here long enough to know Stiles. Hell, everyone in this city had heart of Stiles, he was the Sheriffs kid. And in the last year or so the kid had caused a whole lot of trouble. Ever since he got this bunch of new friends. He wouldn't be the first who lost its way, Sheriffs kid or not.

"Stiles didn't run away." A security in his voice he didn't feel. For a split second the officer pulled a face, but he gave his boss a short nod and left.

"He bribed everyone in this town to not selling me any beacon. I can't even buy pizza without his consent. He wouldn't left." The words needed out. He didn't care that there was no one who would hear them. Maybe he only wanted to convince himself. He knew that the past wasn't easy for Stiles. That he didn't made it easy for him. After Claudia died the kid had more taken care of him than the other way round. He knew that he worked to much, leaving Stiles alone. But he still knew is son. Knew that Stiles was loyal to death. He wouldn't simply left. Not him, not his pack. God, his son was running with wolves, he fought supernatural creatures like it was normal, he did things a normal teenager shouldn't have to worry about, shouldn't even know. And maybe that was the point? Maybe it was to much. Maybe he couldn't take it anymore. The Nogitsune left him broken and no one was there helping him pick up the pieces. It was his fault, wasn't it? That Stiles left. He should have stayed home, with his son, instead he went to work. Like always. It heartbeat picked up and every second it got harder to fight back the tears. Feeling guilt and grief filling him, pound against his walls, threaten to break him down.

"He didn't." Dereks voice came from the window, standing for god knows how long in the shadows.

"There was someone else in this room. But I couldn't get enough scent to follow them." The Sheriff snapped out of his thoughts and Derek didn't need to see his eyes to know that, as soon as he was alone, he would find himself a bottle whiskey, drowning his sorrows and panic. He could understand him. Probably better than anyone else. But Stiles was alive. They would find him and bring him back. And then Stiles would rip each of them apart for not taking care of his father.

"He's alive. Stiles is pack! If he died we would feel it. He's out there, and we will find him." The pack repeated those words over and over, at least once a week. They couldn't search for him like they wanted. Couldn't abandon their own territory, but they kept their ears open. Asking passing packs and omegas, contacted old allies and making new ones. No one had seen or heard of him. But Stiles was till pack. No matter what happened to him, wherever he was, he was still pack. They would feel it, if he died. Even if he was on the other side of the earth. Over the next two years they felt nothing.

It took him a while but Stiles was finally home. He could just go in, he still knew where the spare key was hidden. His father was home, he had seen him trough the kitchen window. And yet he couldn't. He was gone so long. It was something he would have probably done before. Going in like nothing had happen. But now? It would give his father enough of an heart attack finding him on his doorstep. Covered in mud, a kid in tow. Stiles took a deep breath and rung the bell.

When the Sheriff opened, the cruiser in the driveway suggesting that he was still Sheriff, they just stared at each other for moments. Looking each other up and down, checking for god knows what. Wounds maybe. Signs how the years had treat the other. Trying to figure out if this was real.

"Stiles?" His father croaked. He looked well. He had a few more grey hairs and wrinkles, but he was okay.

"Hi Dad." That was all it took. The next second they held each other in a bone breaking hug.

"How.. Where... God Son, what happened?"

"The usual. Easiest target and so. Took me a while to drove them mad with my chatter." Stiles joked, but his voice was thick from unshed tears. The girl was peeking out behind Stiles legs, still clutching at his jeans. She was about 6 years old with shoulder length brown hair, one small strand braided and deep blue eyes. Both of them dirty, with holes in their clothes and in great need of a shower and a few hours sound sleep.

"Lets go inside. I make you something to eat and then you can tell me what happened." The Sheriff inspects them again, his hands still on this sons shoulders, tears in his eyes.

"Maybe you two should clean up first. I see if I can find something to wear for your little friend." Obviously he was still awesome, Stiles thought. He would have to explain her later though.

"An old t-shirt of mine would be enough. For now at least. I get it."

Then he lifted the Girl up.

"What do you think Tia? A Shower and some food?" She gave him a shy smile but her eyes were bright and happy. Like his. On his way inside Stiles couldn't help but brush his shoulder against his fathers, giving him an blinding smile that seemed to express so much more than 'I'm happy to be back'.

 

In the kitchen the Sheriff send a quick message to the station, stating that something came up and he couldn't come in today, knowing they wouldn't question it. He went to work with a broken leg, so whatever it was, it had to be important. They would wait to question him until he was back in. And he had the station organized enough, that they could cope if someone would drop out unexpectedly. Even him. After that he send two words to Melissa and the rest of the pack. > _He's back. <_

They probably had less than five minutes before every werewolf he knew was in his house. He could hear the shower upstairs, knowing that Stiles was back, but it felt surreal, like he was just dreaming. Or hallucinating. It wouldn't be the first time in the last years. Especially in the beginning, when he was drinking to much. Not wanting anyone’s help. Just throwing himself in work, sleeping without nightmares in which he got _the_ phone call. Someone telling him they found his sons body. Seeing pictures of what they had done to him. Waking up the creaking of the house, swearing he could hear Stiles voice.

Nate put together some sandwiches when Scott run through the door into the kitchen.

"Is it true? Where is he?"

"Upstairs." It was Derek who answered. Behind him the rest came in and the Sheriff ushered them from the small kitchen into the living room.

When Scott opened his mouth to, without doubt, bombard him with question, he just shook his head.

"I don't know much more than you. He was just standing in front of the door. I send him up to shower and texted you right away. And -" He sat down, overrun by his feelings. His son was back. He was alive! They didn't broke him. He was safe, he made it out and he came back. Home.

"Oh god, he's back. He's back."

The water had stopped and shortly after a door opened.

"I'll be right down. If anyone of you hugs me before I'm inside, I'll punch you." Stiles called down. Followed by a muttered

"Stealthy werewolves, really. I heard you with the water running."

As soon as he stepped into the room, the pack jumped up wanting to hug, scenting and question him all at once but they all stopped when they saw the little werewolf in his arms. Of course they knew he wasn't alone, heard the second heartbeat, smelled someone else. Something else. But that could have been Stiles. He could got bitten. No matter what, they certainly wasn't expecting a child with him. Her eyes wide with panic, her knuckle white grip on Stiles.

"Ssh, it's okay Tia. It's all right. They're pack, they won't hurt us. It's okay." He murmured in her hair, petting her back until she calmed down.

 

 


	2. Answers without information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. I really tried to go a bit slower. I hope it worked.  
> As for the posting, I try to post a new chapter at least once a week. Can't promise anything though. I write this on my mobile on the train heading to work or back.

Stiles sat Tia down, gave her an secure smile and opened his arms so his friends could hug

him like promised. Scott and his Dad were the first. The first used to group hugs and the later obviously didn't care. Soon they were standing in a big puppy pile in the middle of the room. Everyone tried to touch his skin, even if that meant that he had one or two hands under his shirt. Even if his Dad was currently in the middle of one, Stiles couldn't imagine him in a puppy pile. Stilinskis were great huggers and Nate gave the best ones, but it was a little unsettling. He was glad he knew were his Dads hand were or he would freak out. More than he apparently already was.

"Now get off. I can't breathe." he stated after a few moments.

"You smell weird."

"Not weird, Scotty. Different. But you lot will probably cuddle me every second I let you until I smell like pack again." Ignoring the voice in his head, whispering that he was no longer pack. That after all the things he did, he had no right to consider himself as one of them. With a grin he sat down next to Tia, who curled herself right up to him, arms around his waist, face smashed into his belly. She let out an almost inaudible happy rumble when he stroke her back.

"Where were you?" Nate asked from his spot on the TV chair, leant forward, his forearms on his knees, ignoring the sigh he got from Stiles for it. So here we go. God, he was not ready for this. It made him feel like he was 15 again. Or when he was 8 and literally destroyed the kitchen. By accident. He didn't plan to blow up the microwave that set the cupboards on fire.

"Everywhere and nowhere. They travelled a lot." Vague was good. And it was true, they didn't stay long at one place. Always moving.

"Who were they?"

"I don't know. They didn't exactly introduced themselves. Some sort of hunters I guess." Also … okay not true. More or less. They didn't introduced them, but he of course catches their names. And the other thing...

"Why did they take you?" Stiles throw his free arm up. This was ridiculous. As if real kidnappers would tell there victims the who and where and why. Life was no movie.

"Why would _I_ know?"

"You don't want to talk about it." Isaac was always the best from the turned wolves when it came to emotions.

"No I don't."

"But -"

"No Lydia. I'm not even an hour back, okay. We're tired and hungry and -"

"The Sandwiches!" His Dad called out and jumped up to get the food. Stiles glances at his fathers retreating back, half confused, half concerned. On the other hand, he would probably more concerned if he weren't a bit messed up today.

"Look they took me, we travelled a lot, they gave me food, didn't beat me up asking for information about you or anything else. They got killed and I headed home. That's it." Taking a deep breath, he leaned back and focused on Tia.

"You ready to eat something, honey?" She nodded into his shirt.

"You have to sit up for it." His voice and smile soft, taking the plates from the Sheriff.

"So, who is she?" Of course Allison was brave enough to ask after his rude outbreak.

"Found her in the woods. Next to her slaughtered pack." He couldn't help but snap, feeling guilty immediately. Watching them as they stared hat her in shock, trying to process what he just throw in the room. Stiles wanted to bang his head to the wall. Or maybe theirs. He didn't know. It was … to much at once. Of course they had questions, of course they wanted to know. But he couldn't talk about it. Not yet. About most things probably never. Well, at least that was the plan. Not telling them, until they gave up. As if. After a few awkward minutes of silence Derek stood up.

"Go home. You've seen him. Now give him some space." Reluctant but obedient under the Sheriffs and Dereks piercing gaze the pack left.

 

 

Later he was lying on his bed in is old room, arms under his head, Tia coiled up next to him. Well, it still was is room. But it felt different. Like he was just a guest. Being back home was weird. He got used to his new life over the time. And he even liked it.

Sort of. There were things he hated. He had to do things he just wanted to forget, things

he wasn't proud of. But all in all it wasn't bad.

Stiles hadn't lied when the pack questioned him, but it wasn't exactly the truth neither. He let go a deep sigh. He had to sleep. He could sleep. They were safe here. Tia was sound asleep, a fist in his shirt.

He would protect her no matter what. The first weeks he was a bit scared at how strong his need to protect her was. He was no wolf, he wasn't part of her family and yet he knew he would kill for her. He would leave his Dad and his pack for her. He was terrified of his own possessiveness. But now... He accepted it. While he wasn't a wolf, normal human behaviour didn't actually apply to him neither.

 

Thinking back, it was a long day. They were so close to home, only a few hours by foot, less if they could hitch a ride. Finally seeing his Dad again. Over the years he had worried himself sick, but his Dad was okay. He probably had the pack to thank for that. And Melissa.

And just after coming home the pack came by. It was good to see them, more than good. To know that he still belong, when a bit overwhelming. Two years over their own little hell mouth and everyone was still alive. While he was away, they became a real pack. His emotions were all over the place. He was extremely happy and relived. And worried. Time changes a lot. They might still think of him as pack, but would they if they knew? Right know he wasn't sure if he saw himself as part of them. So, yeah, this whole day was overwhelming. Plus Tia doesn't like crowds, humans or werewolves.

First answering his Dad and the pack, later the police. The Sheriff told him that it was okay to wait, they could do this tomorrow, but Stiles just wanted to get over it. Explaining Tia, or more precisely Tiana Gillespie (at least he thought it was her last name), was a bit tricky. Would have been at least, if he had told them. He didn't.

For the Police Tia was the daughter of a friend and that Stiles promised to look after her for a while. His Dad was everything but thrilled by that. True, it wasn't the best story considering that he just escaped his kidnappers. But they didn't ask, not now anyway, and Stiles didn't offer more information. Generally he was a bit guarded with information. This time more believable thought. He told them were he last saw the two men and when they didn't came back two or three days later, he left. They would want to question him again, no doubt. Stiles was no idiot, he knew they were going easy on him because he was the Sheriffs kid. They always did. He answered enough for them to let him go. And while the officers were quite happy with his story, his father didn't seemed to believe him.

 

Sighing again Stiles willed his mind to stop circling. He had enough time to worry about things

in the future. His Dad, and some of the pack, probably would give him a few days before the

questions begun again, so he should use these days to tank up some well needed energy. And it was only a idea, really, but since he was given the time, he should think about a few things. Excuses. How to turn the truth so that it wouldn't be a lie without being recognizable.

 

 

Jonathan was sitting on the sofa, starring at the TV but not watching, not even register what was running. It could be as much a football game as a love story. He always thought that he would stop worrying and over thinking everything once Stiles was back. But watching his Son lie so bluntly he couldn't help but worry again. You don't become and stay Sheriff if you don't know when someone is lying.

It was just like in the beginning. When Stiles was lying about werewolves and everything that goes bump in the night. Back then, he really though he would lose his son. Not like his mother, more like not being a father anymore. Stiles lied more than he told the truth. He showed up on crime scenes with more knowledge about what happened than the whole station after they closed the case. He came back home green and blue with bruises and stitches. He was in the hospital more than once without anyone telling him. Not even Melissa. He didn't talk to him. That hurt the most. That Stiles thought he couldn't trust him. Didn't want to trust him. Now through he could understand it. Partly at least. If he got captured for two years he wouldn't want to talk about it too. God knows what they did to his son. Blinding white hate bubbled up in him. He wished could have done anything to them. Fuck being a Sheriff, they hurt his kid! And yet... Something seemed off. It was clear that the time had changed Stiles, just like everyone else. But there was something he couldn't quite place.

For one the way he observed and held himself. His eyes always scanning the room. Checking the exits and always knowing where anyone was. One would think after being kidnapped for such a long time he would have been at least a bit traumatized. But Stiles was perfectly fine. At least he seemed fine, except for the constant calculating for the easiest way out, like a captured soldier. After the nogitsune he was a wreck, now he even seemed to be more in control of his body. Before Stiles would flail his hands and arms everywhere, he still did, but they seemed to exactly where he wanted them to go. He sat lean backwards, comfortable, but more ready to jump up then he would have if someone told him to do so.

The way he talked was different two. The way he lied or moreover the way he talk himself around a lie. Sure he was good at before, but... He sighed. Maybe Stiles had to learn these things to survive. Wasn't that a comforting thought?

He should go to sleep, it was a long day for him too, and he had to work tomorrow. Stiles was back that was was counted. He had enough time to figure his sons last years out. Like all the ways he had to change or who the hell Tia was.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still like it?  
> Uhm.. mini-spoiler (because I had to stop working and write it down): One time when Derek looked after Tia, she saw a stuffed fox in a shop window and because she liked it so much, he bought it for her. She named the fox Henri and would go anywhere without it :3


	3. Shopping trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I switched from my mobile to writing it with hand. Works better for me. Is there any difference? 
> 
> Secondly I'm going to overhaul the first two chapters. Hopefully around easter. 
> 
> I fear I put all the tenses in a shaker and made a martini. Sorry.

Stiles wakes up with a jolt. A nasty habit he obtained over the last weeks. Since he was on the run with Tia. It was true that his kidnappers were dead, at least the two who stayed with him. So he couldn't exactly go to the next police station. Not when he wanted to stay of the radar for a bit longer. He knew he couldn't hide forever. There would be official police reports now that he was back, the local press would write about it and maybe even larger ones if they got hold of it. And maybe knowing all that and coming back had been stupid but he did it anyway. For his Dad, for Tia.

 

When they were on the run, the mostly stayed in the woods. Sleeping on the ground, washing in river banks and – god, he really hoped the pack would never found out, they would never let him live it down – eating rabbits or whatever else he could catch. At least it wasn't winter, so they could sleep huddled in the leaves or an empty cave without freezing to death.

Sometimes, when they came near a bigger town, Stiles hid the wolf in a relative save space and told her to wait, that he would be back soon. Walking through crowded streets and malls he pickpocket those who seemed to have enough. Depending on how much he got, he and Tia would stay a few nights in motels. Having a real shower, sleeping in a real bed, eating real food. Washing their clothes. Under the given circumstances they weren't travelling with much luggage. Almost none to be exact. Stiles had a small backpack with some spare clothes and a few necessaries. Like toothbrushes. It didn't matter that they lived in the woods like animals, that was just – no.

 

And while it wasn't that bad – except maybe for the week were it just wouldn't stop raining. It took Stiles another week to feel dry again – they were on the run. Stiles was only human, he needed sleep, there was no use fighting it. Besides he wouldn't sleep to deep and Tia would hear it too, if someone were coming. Still, he would wake up, heart pounding, only calming down when he saw the girl peacefully sleeping next to him.

 

The first morning back home was no difference. Tia was sleeping next to him, drowning in yet another of his shirts. A Batman shirt. The girl would, without question, grow up awesome. Stiles smiles at her fondly before planning the new day.

They needed to get her some new clothes. And he had to talk to the pack. Oh joy. No, he was glad that he was with his pa- friends again. It were just the things they had to discuss. A bunch of 'I don't want to but I have to and I know it's going to be awkward' topics. That not all his kidnappers were dead for one.

Tia for another. Stiles couldn't expect them to simply take her in, without knowing who she was. Or what happened. To her. If it was going after him, his friends or better anyone, would never know what happened with him. Not that it would work, not completely at last. But it was worth a try, right?

Anyway, Tia needed some clothes. Even though he had some money left from the last city and his credit card had to be somewhere in his room, he had to ask his Dad for a bit extra money. And he wanted to ask Scott to come with them. Mhm, and maybe one of the girls? Since they needed girl-clothes. He was sure he perfectly capable of shopping for Tia on his own. No matter what everyone said he had some sort of fashion sense. He knew that t-shirts and plaid would never be in, but he liked them. Okay, and maybe he had an pinterest account. Another thing he would never ever tell anyone.

Where was he? Right, shopping. If Scott hadn't work, he sure would come. And then Stiles could tell him to tell the other that they had to talk. Very grown up. He knew, okay. And Scott was the alpha it was his job to do this sort of stuff.

 

Stiles pushed the deep blue blankets back and untangled his arm from Tiana. Standing by the opened window – by now he felt uncomfortable not smelling the fresh morning air first thing he woke up, that's what he got from sleeping in the woods for weeks – he tried to slow his brain down. After all the weird shit his ADD decided to stay. But at least he didn't needed his meds anymore. Hooray. Firstly he simply had none. And they wouldn't get him some, so he had to do without. Later he found other, better, ways to focus.

Looking up into the sky he led his eyes flash white for a second. Nobody would have seen it. Or at least notice it. Except if they would be above him and since he was looking up, he would have spotted them. Turning back to the room, a lot calmer, he shrugged his sleep-shirt of and headed only in this PJ pants and yawning to the bathroom, leaving both doors slightly open so Tia could find him easily.

 

According to Lydia he still had no fashion sense and she would rather wear cowboy hats that let him buy clothes for a beautiful and sweet almost human being. Which was why she was dragging Stiles, Scott and Tia through the mall, from one store to the next. It felt good to know that he could blame Scott for this. They were still on the phone when Scott asked everyone to accompany them.

The rest of the pack wanted to come as well, even Derek and Stiles couldn't help but laugh at the thought of Derek buying tiny pink dresses. But Stiles forbade it, claiming it would be to much for her. Although it would be to much for him, too. He promised they would meet up later though.

For once Stiles was glad that his Dad never cleaned up the attic. In an beat-up box he found some of this cold clothes. And gladly they fitted Tia. So she was now wearing a pair of faded jeans, battered black and green sneakers and a grey T-shirt with a neon green dinosaur on it. Scott downright started to bawl when he saw her. It was the shirt Stiles had worn when they first met.

 

Lydia refused to go home before they had at least one dress for “Princess Tiana”. Tia refused to wear anything pink but insisted on a red hoodie, just like the one Stiles was wearing. He bought her a giant ice for it. Chocolate and Raspberry and Peanut Butter. At least she didn't want anything minty. He let her hold the cone and liked every time she offered him something. Clutching his hand she gave him a big smile. Scott and Lydia got one themselves, even if it was small and shy.

“How come she doesn't...” Scott trailed off, licking at his own ice cone.

“She doesn't talk. Not a word since I found her. Not that I can blame her. It wasn't nice.”

“How -”

“Not here. Later.” Lydia stared at him bewildered.

“You do realise that this was the second time in two days you shushed me.” He gave her a cheeky smile. She couldn't really expect him to hold this high school crush on her, could she? It lasted long enough. Beside even back than he mostly loved her for her brain. And maybe because it was safe. Whatever he said, he knew he never had a chance.

“So Scotty, you think the pack would come to mine later? I really don't want to, but there are some things we probably should talk about.” His childhood friend and the ex love of his life shared a concerned look. Stiles should probably get used to it. As long as they don't knew what he did over the last two years, everyone would simply assume that were held capture in a dark cellar, treat badly. They would think lots of horrible thing had happened to him and they would wait for him to break down. There was nothing to break down for. But since he wouldn't tell anyone, they probably would keep sending him estimate glances.

“Uh sure. I tell the others. When?”

“Well, I'm going to take this ice-monster home.” He poked into Tias ribs, she swatted his hands away, but didn't seemed angry.

“Some real food and a bit crashing on the couch I guess. Around four or five maybe.”

“Alright. I tell the others.” Scott repeated.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, no more notes today. Haven't anything to say. But always happy to hear what you think about it ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to replace some of the 'looks'.. but since I wanted to work over it next week anyway you have to suffer trough it now. Sorry. Or maybe not. It's weekend who cares about anything. See you next week :)

Scott sat on his bed, legs and arms crossed, a frown on his face. “What's wrong, honey?” His mothers voice came from the door. “Nothing.” He hesitated. “Nothing. Just...” “Stiles.” Melissa came over and sat next to him on the bed, already in her green working gown.

“He wants to talk about things he don't want to talk about.” He put his feet back down, picking at his white shirt. “And I'm not sure if I want to hear it.” Leaning into his Mom's touch at his arm. “Honey, you know Stiles. He never talks about the bad stuff. Even if he should.”

Scott knew what she meant. If something hurt him – his mothers death, the Nogitsune – or if he could hurt someone he cared about with it – being beaten up in a cellar by Gerard – Stiles wouldn't talk about it. “You have to trust him with it. Be there for him.” “Yeah.” After giving her a hug before she went to work, he grabbed his mobile. >Stiles wants 2 c us. 4. his place.<

oOo

Like the last time the pack gather in the living room. Cuddling on the sofa or sitting on the floor. “Alright.” Stiles clapped his hands. “Lets get over with it.”

He nodded but turned around in his chair. “I'm going to tell them what happened, Honey. Do you wanna stay here or wait upstairs?” Tias head popped out from behind him, tense, eyes wide. She looked a few times between the stairs and Stiles and crawled back behind him. “Okay.” He turned back.

“First: I want Tia in the pack.” He continued before anyone could say something. “She's a were and still so young. She need a pack. More than I can gave her. Look, she's the only one left. Her family -” He bit his lip. “They weren't exactly pack of the year. A bit of Douchebags, okay. Like Deucalion-Douchebag, you know. Just not as powerful. It was a good thing they were knocked out. But they got slaughtered. Not a friendly 'I think you should stop Bullet in the head'. More like -” Stiles swallowed. “They were thorn into pieces. Even the children. Tia – Tia was the only one I could get out. She hasn't said a word since then. And I – I want to make it up to her, I guess. She deserves a good pack. Please.” He hurried the story out.

Afterwards silence laid thick in the air. Finally Scott stud up and went over to his friend. He hadn't needed the explanation. Or the request. Tia belonged to Stiles, so she was already pack in his eyes. “Stiles.” He pried his friends hands out of his hair. “It's okay. Of course she can stay. Right Derek?”

The older wolf crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head. “Sure. But I'm not sure she would accept anyone but Stiles as her alpha.” “Does she have to?” Isaac tried to catch a glimpse of her. “No.” Derek shock his head. “Not now anyway.” “Then she is pack.” Decided Scott and had his arms full of Stiles before he could close his mouth. “Thank you!” He couldn't help but smile and wrap his arms around the other boy. “Anything buddy.”

Stiles dragged Tia into his lap. “Look, Honey, that's your new pack! They're a bit stupid sometimes, but mostly awesome.” The little girl, still in the dinosaur shirt but with new jeans, eyed the group warily, but waved after a moment. Clearly only to please Stiles. “It's alright. You get used to the over the time.” And with that he placed a kiss on her forehead. The girls 'aww'ed collectively. Scott was a bit sad but more glad, his friend was softer around the girl. As soon as he looked at her, he seemed to drop some of his walls.

“Second?” “What?” The pack looked at Lydia, puzzled. “You said 'first' earlier, so there has to be a 'second'.” “Oh. Right.” The boy was fidgeting in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “The thing is, I might have lied a bit yesterday.”

“About?” No one had heard the Sheriff coming back from the station, obviously avoiding double shifts so early after Stiles return. “Uhm, about the ones that took me.” “Not dead?” “Very dead. But … only the two I had to stay with.” For the second time everyone went silent. Nate stood a bit taller and switched back to the Sheriff. “That means?” “That means, that there are still three or four of them out there and they might come for me again.”

“Why.” Crabbing the door frame to not go over and shake his son. “Why you? What do they want with you? From you?” But he didn't get an answer, Stiles just bid his lip again and examine the carpet.

 

The hour afterwards was just awkward. With Stiles gone for so long their lives drifted apart. To many story’s he didn't know about, to many story's he couldn't tell. It hurt a bit, knowing that he missed so much, but there would be new story's, be would get to know the missed ones and maybe, one day, they would know his too.

Thank god Tia was tired so Stiles send the pack home in favour to bring her to bed. She slept a lot lately, but he wasn't to worried about it. She had a lot to put away. “Derek.” He called after the former alpha and waited until he was back inside. “Uhm... “ Stiles was searching for any trace of the pack. “They're far enough away.” “Oh. Uhm, it's just, about Tia, you know.”

He closed the door. “She's a born wolf and I thought maybe you could help her a bit.” The longer Derek looked at Stiles, the twitchier he got. “You didn't have to. I just thought since you're a born one too, she could learn more from you then from the rest. And -” “You haven't learned to shut up the past two years, huh. Of course I can help her.” “Wow. So many words. Uh, I mean, thank you.” “Shut up.” It could almost be a smile around Dereks lips.

He made a step towards Tia, the girl only seeing him from the corner of her eyes, flinching and Stiles acted on instinct. One second Derek stood before him, the next he had him flat on his back, one shoulder dislocated. He had a blank face but a dark look in his eyes, while Derek blinked up at him in confusion. “Derek! Don't break my house. Or my son.” shouted the Sheriff from upstairs.

Stiles let go of him as if burned. “Oh my god! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” Hugging himself he walked backwards until he hit the wall. “I'm sorry.” He kept murmuring. Carefully, his shoulder already back to were it belonged, Derek approached him. “I'm okay. Nothing happened. I'm fine.”

Stiles looked up. The only thing he could think about was what would happen if Derek told anyone about this. “I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just – please don't tell the others. No one! Please.” Stiles was looking at him with pleading eyes. “Okay. But we” he pointed between them “are going to talk about it.” “Now?!” “No. Bring her to bed. I'll come by tomorrow.” Before he could say something else Derek was out of the door. Staring blindly at the wood in front of him, he waited to hear a car driving away.

 

oOo

 

The drive home wasn't long, but it gave Derek some time to over think what just happened. And it wasn't only that Stiles apparently could fight now, that he was good enough to overpower a werewolf, even if it was 'just' a distracted one.

Or the way he looked, the mask he was wearing. Extremely concentrated. Stiles knew exactly what to do. If he was acting purely on instinct he had to had a lot of fights, considering that his flight instinct was stronger than his instinct to fight back before he was kidnapped. And that meant the truth had to be far from what Stiles was telling them. Someone had trained him. Not just for battle, but how to hide it.

But in the end Stiles hadn't change completely. He still talked like a waterfall, he still twitched without noticing it, he still rubbed the back of his head when he was nervous. He mostly looked the same, but if you knew what you had to look for, it was obvious that Stiles had grown into his long limps. Broader shoulders and strong arms, a small scar under his right eye. It made him wonder if there were more scars on his body, how he got them.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It felt a bit / lot like "What the heck am I even writing?!" 
> 
> I started to throw over the first chapters. I think I can manage it this weekend. Or at least I hope so. 
> 
> Anyway: H A P P Y E A S T E R ! ! !

 

Stiles was awake. The sun wasn't even up yet. It had to be something around 5 a.m. But he knew he wouldn't go back to sleep, to restless. After a few minutes considering, he stood up. Changing into some sweatpants and a new T-shirt. He placed the one he slept with, together with a old pager, in Tias hands and sneaked out of the room. It was something he would do. If he left, he gave her something that smelled of him and one of the pagers he … got. This way she could reach him, but it was smaller than a mobile and she wouldn't talk anyway. Downstairs he put on some shoes, grabbed his keys and left the house through the back door, heading for the woods. He just hoped he wouldn't run into some wolves.

 

 

**oOo**

 

 

As soon as he came back two hours later, sweating, a pleasant ache in his muscles but feeling better, his father was pulling him into a breaking hug. Over his shoulder he could see Scott, Kira and Derek, standing in the kitchen.

 

“Dad? Everything okay?” Cold panic hit him. “Is something wrong with Tia?” Winding himself out of his fathers arms and grabbing the pager from his pocket. No messages. “She's fine. She's upstairs.” Scott eased him, looking relived himself. “Where were you?” Nate demanded to know. “What? Just running a bit. I couldn't sleep. Why?” But his Dad was only staring at him as if he didn't knew him.

 

For the first time in two days Kira talked directly to him. “He was checking on you and you were gone. Again.” She added a bit quieter. “We were worried sick, buddy.” “I'm sorry. Really. I was just - “ “I'm going to work.” Stiles let the arm that pointed behind him out of the door sink.

 

“Dad.” Already half out of the house, the Sheriff looked back. He looked like Stiles was a puzzle and he wasn't sure if he wanted to solve it. It hurt. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the best idea to go out without leaving a note. “Fuck” Running his hands through his hair, he turned to the other three people in the kitchen.

 

“Sorry you had to get up so early because of me. Uhm, I could make breakfast if you want?” Scott placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's okay. I had to get up anyway. Working.” “Hey, I wanted to come by with Tia later. For a check up. I don't think something is wrong. But, you never know, right?” “Cool. I tell Deaton and write you when he has time.”

 

With that, he gave Stiles another pad on the shoulder and Kira a quick kiss before leaving too. “Ey, Scoot.” Stiles called after him. “I don't have a mobile.” “What? Oh.” Seeing Scotts confused puppy face felt good, familiar, and he huffed out a quiet laugh. “Just call me here.” Scott still seemed to be a bit confused. Maybe he tried to remember the number, Stiles didn't know. But it was just like back then.“Okay. Cool.” And then the door felt shut.

 

 

 

“I like Breakfast, if that's okay.” Kira looked shy. “Scott says you're a good cook.” “Ha! I'm the best!” He was already filling the coffee maker. “I mean someone had to make sure my Dad didn't only eat Doughnuts and Pizza.” Derek didn't say anything, but he sat down on the kitchen table and took the coffee mug with a short nod and an low rumble that, Stiles decided, was supposed to be a 'thank you'. “Milk, sugar?” He asked Kira. “Just milk, thanks.”

 

“Tia, I make breakfast. You want some?” Knowing she would hear him. Knowing that she would be awake by now. She always as awake when he came back. Waiting for him. And now, with strangers in the house, waiting for him to tell her if it was safe to come out.

 

Almost immediately they could hear a soft tap tap tap on the stairs and then she was standing next to Stiles, hair wild, barefoot, the batman shirt almost reached to her ankles.

 

“Hey Baby Girl. Do you sleep well?” She nodded and he patted her hair while reaching for some beacon. “Did I woke you up when I left?” She shook her head but tugged on his shirt. When he looked down, she lifted her arms. With a soft huff he lifted her up and nuzzled her neck. “I missed you too, Honey.” He grabbed a blue and orange stripped cup, filled it with mild, placed it on the table and sat Tia on the chair in front of it.

 

 

 

“Derek you already know. He's a born wolf, like you. Not evil at all. You don't need to be afraid of him, even if he looks grumpy all the time. And that's Kira. She's a fox.” Frowning she mustered the girl, then shook her head and pointed at Stiles. He grinned. “She's a real fox. With fangs and – hey can you shift? Do you get fluffy ears?” “Nope, sorry. Only fangs and claws, no fluffy ears.” “Pity.” Tia was still frowning at the Kitzune, skittering slightly over to Derek. “Huh. Usually she likes foxes. She thinks I'm one, even though she knows I'm human.”

 

“Well, it suites you.” Derek grinned over his coffee. “Geh, tanks.” He grinned back, before returning to making breakfast. “Anyway. Who goes where to college? What? I do know how much time passed. Or that you're only here because college hasn't started yet.” Kira took a sip of her coffee before explaining “Danny got into MIT. Scholarship and all. We knew he was good, but not so good. Well, apparently he is. And Lydia -” “Everywhere?” “Something like that, yeah. But she goes to Yale. The rest of us stays near. Beacon Hills college, Berkeley. Scott got into a vet school.” Kira carried on.

 

He hummed and gave everyone a plate with bacon, eggs and toast. “Sorry. I didn't go grocery shopping yesterday. Since when is Danny part of the group?” “Since shortly after you … left. He already knew! Everyone was shocked. He keeps his distance. Didn't want to get to caught up in all of this. But he helps whenever we go to him.” “Understandable. Sort of.”

 

“What?” He asked when Derek didn't stop starring at him. “You learned how to eat.” “What?!” Yeah, he didn't stuffed everything at once in his mouth anymore, but he thought it was one of the good things they made him do. So he shrugged. “They didn't like it. I didn't like getting beaten up over it.”

 

Both, Dereks and Kiras head snapped up. “You said they didn't beat you up.” He growled and Stiles shook him a guilty glance. “I said they didn't beat me up for information. Beside that ...” He stopped and bit in his toast instead, but he knew he already had let slip to much. It was probably being back home. It made him feel safe. Safe enough to not being on guard like he should have.

 

Derek growled again, his eyes flashing red. “Woah, Dude!” letting his toast fall. “Since when are you an Alpha again?” Instead Kira got up. “I think I should go. I have work too. Thanks for the breakfast.” It felt like she was fleeing. But from what? Or whom? Derek or him? “You're welcome.”

 

 

 

He watched her leave before returning his attention to Derek, but not before glancing at Tia, who nibbled happily on a piece of beacon, though. “So. Alpha.” “Beating you up.” They starred at each other for a few moments. Then Stiles threw his arms up and leaned sulkily back.

 

“Urgh! Fine! They weren't a big fan of keeping their fists to themselves. If I did something they didn't like or annoyed them, they punched me a bit. Now, Alpha?” Derek looked like he wanted to murder someone, but answered his question.

 

“A passing pack. Or not passing for that matter. We fought, they lost. How bad did they hurt you?” “Jesus, what's this? 20 questions?” “If you want it to.” This time Stiles let almost his mug fall. Before he could say something sarcastic, he bit his lip – something he seemed to do a lot since he was back. Bad new habit!

 

There were some things he wanted to know and Derek was offering. But Tia – nope, she was sitting there, looking up with big eyes and soaked up every new information about him like a sponge. Fine. “Nothing to bad, I mean I'm still alive. And they patched me up afterwards. We got used to each other over the time.”

 

Taking a deep breath. “My Dad...” “We looked after him. Made him come to pack meetings now and then. We kept your no-bad-food threat in the stores. Melissa cooked a bit for him. I went by every other day. He wasn't happy, but he did okay.” Derek could barley finish before Stiles launched himself at him. The hug was a bit awkward, considering only one of them was standing. His face buried in Dereks shoulder he waited until the wolf tighten his arms around him, before he mumbled a soft “Thank you” in his neck.

 

He let go and scratched the back of this head. “God, I swear I wasn't so touchy-feely before I came back.” Derek grinned at him. “As long as you keep it to the pack.”

 

 

**oOo**

 

 

Derek insisted to accompany them grocery shopping, so that Tia could get used to him. Much to her delight they spend the whole trip bickering.

 

“Don't even think about it. Do you know how unhealthy that is?” Derek pointed at a box of fruit loops in the card, which he was supposed to wheel. “They're for Tia.” The boy stated passively. “So Tia gets sugar pure and I'm not allowed to buy something with remotely less sugar for myself? With my own money?” “Exactly. But you can have a box of fruit loops too, if you want to.”

 

He didn't, if only because Stiles said he could. By the time they were packing the food into Dereks Toyota Tia was grinning from ear to ear.

 

 

**oOo**

 

 

Scott called two hours later. And Stiles promised they would come by soon. He was a bit … pissed. Couldn't Scott have waited another hour?

 

Tia and Derek were sitting on the living room carpet, a plate of waffles next to each. Derek had asked her if she could already shift completely. Her head shaking was an apology and she looked after Stiles, giving him a pleading glance. But Derek just told her that it was fine.

 

“Can you flash your eyes?” And her blue eyes turned into a bright yellow. Derek flashed his own red ones back at her and smiled.

 

Now she was watching him with pure amazement as he shifted into his beta-form over and over again. After a while she figured out how to change her teeth and she ripped the waffle with her new fangs happily apart. Stiles wished for a camera so badly it almost hurt.

 

“Hey, give me your mobile.” Derek looked up at him with confusion. “What?” “Your mobile. I wanna make a pic.” Together with a raised eyebrow he gave it to him. Whatever. He took some pictures of Tia alone and some together with Derek before returning the phone.

 

“Can you send them to me?” The wolf raised both eyebrows. “I thought you don't have a mobile.” “No.. but I have a computer and a e-mail address and skype.” He didn't got a reply to that, but Stiles knew that Derek would send him the pictures. He stood up “Sorry guys, but playtime is over. Deaton says we can come over.”  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Stiles favorite pic is from Tia and Derek sitting across and showing each other their fangs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. I worked over Chapter 1 and 2 last week. And I will re-write chapter 3 and 4 this weekend (hopefully).

Unsurprisingly Derek came with them. What Stiles does found surprising was that he was more than okay with it. They didn't hate each other before. Derek and he were, he didn't know exactly, but he thought that they were on their way to becoming friends. They saved each others life, comforted each other, but Stiles didn't thought they would have done this before. They probably wouldn't do this now if it weren't for Tia. But, and that was the point, Stiles was glad that Derek came along. For what reason ever.

The clinic still looked the same. Scott brought them into one of the surgeries, talking about Kira, his Mom and his furry patients ( everyone the cutest thing ever) like time hasn't passed.

“Stiles” Deaton sauntered into the room, majestic but creepy like always.

“Good to see you again.” When he saw them, he froze, mustering Stiles like he couldn't believe what he saw. And Stiles began to panic. Because Deaton knew. Of course he knew. He just hadn't thought that he would take one look at him and knew everything. Maybe not everything. Maybe just partly. Or only suspect. God, Deaton knew and -. His heart was beating so fast it made his head spin.

“Stiles? Are you okay?” Scott concerned voice sounded far away. But then he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and strong. Dereks hand. Who understood why he was freaking out. More or less. And it brought him back. He felt Tias arms around him. Claws poking slightly into his side (when did she learned that?), growling and hissing at Deaton. God, she wanted to protect him!

“Hey, Baby Girl, it's alright. Deaton didn't do anything. No need to try your fangs on him. Or your claws. Where do they come from actually?” At least her attention was on him now. As were her big blue puppy eyes. God!

“I'm sorry, Honey. I didn't want to upset you. I just remembered something.” He pulled her back into his arms and placed a kiss on her hair.

“I'm good. It wasn't Dr. Deatons fault.” Not quite convinced but eager to believe him she pulled her fangs back.

“He's going to examine you. Just to make sure you're not ill or anything.” That got him an scandalous glance. Obviously it was clear that, if she was ill, he would know it.

 

It was afternoon when they made it home. Derek still with them. Tia walked over to the couch, crawled under a thin blanked and reached for the remote. But she waited for his nod, before she turned the TV on. Derek and he stood a bit awkward in the hallway.

“I could help, you know. To protect you. Or to hide it. But I need to know what happened.” He decided it was a good idea to gape at the werewolf.

“Why?” He managed finally. Derek only arched an eyebrow.

“No, uh, I mean why would you help me? More than you already do?”

“Stiles, no matter what you think, you're still pack. And -” He added after a short pause.

“We already lost you once.”

“But why you?” Aaaand that was clearly the wrong thing to say. Derek shrugged, but his face closed off and he crossed his arms.

“You don't want anybody to know and since I do...”

“No! Derek, that's, no. That's not how I meant it.” Trying to take some deep gulps of air, he didn't realised he was starting to panic – and really, this situation was so not panic worthy – until he felt Dereks hand on his neck, thumb pressed into his pulse.

“Breathe.”

“T-that's not w-what I meant.” He repeated before closing his eyes.

“God, w-when is this day over?”

“Soon.” His voice soft, like he spoke to a sick child.

“Mhm” Stiles leaned into the touch.

“I don't know... I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Dereks thumb slowly stroke up and down his neck and Stiles couldn't suppress the shudder if his life depended on it.

“But keep it in mind.” And then he was gone. Not just his hand – and Stiles did not wanted to whimper over the loss of warmth – but vanished from the house.

 

 

“What's up, kiddo?” The Sheriff stood in the kitchen door and watched his son as he chopped some vegetables with a sour expression.

“Scott said they all leave for college some time next month.” He shrugged out of his jacket, hanging it over one of the chairs.

“He's only a hour away, and the rest is even nearer. Well except for Lydia.”

“It's not about them going away.” Stiles dumped everything, together with a some olive oil, into a pan. Pasta then.

“But?”

“What am I going to do? I refuse to be a high school drop out.”

“Then g back.” Nate knew they had to have this conversation, about Stiles future, about Tia. But he wanted to to give him another week or so. Let him settle down first. He should have known that Stiles would throw his planes over. Grabbing a bear from the fridge he sat down.

“Go back? For two years? Without friends? God, there has to be another solution.”

“Maybe you could do it in one year. We could at least ask if it's possible.” Stiles pulled a face and stirred forcefully in the sauce.

“Then what?”

“I don't know. That's the problem. And I need a job too.”

“For what do you need a job?”

“Tia is going to need some stuff. Clothes, food, school stuff and so.”

Okay, okay, wait. When did they changed the subject? He could feet and fund her in general, but that was beside the point. He could understand that Stiles wanted to take care of her, giving her a safe new home, especially if you consider what she is. But Stiles was, okay over 18 and allowed to make life changing decisions (not that age ever stopped him before). He had no graduation, no job, he just got home after being held captured for two years. He couldn't really want to raise a little girl, a girl that was not his own daughter, by himself.

“Stiles.” It was hard to keep calm.

“You need to finish school and Tia need a stable home. Of course she can stay a while but you can't keep her forever.”

“The hell I can't!” He throw the wooden spoon into the sink, crossing his arms over his chest. Great. “Her life was crappy enough already. I'm not giving her up. I wont let her turn into another Derek. Or worse Peter!” Point. But still.

“She's six. You're half a kid yourself!”

“Would you turn her down if she was only a few month and mine?”

“That's different.” Or maybe not, because Stiles turned off the stove and stomped into the living room, picking a scared looking Tia up.

“How do you think this is supposed to work?”

“I don't know, okay. And I don't care. I took care of you after Mom died. I took care of a bunch of teenage werewolves. I think I can work something out. So. Congratulation. You just got grandfather! Because I wont stay without her!” Tia still in his arms he went to the stairs.

“Finish dinner or buy a pizza or something. I don't care.” and then he walked up, throwing his doof shut. Nate stood there, to shocked to move.

 

He had no idea how he ended up at Melissas doorstep. Or how long it took.

“I fucked up.” She opened the door with a smile which dropped instantly.

“What happened?” Concern clear in her voice.

“Can I come in?”

“Oh. Oh! Of course. Sure.”

They sat down on the couch, Nate with his head in his hands.

“What happened?” This time it was Scott who asked, walking into the room, eyes red.

“I had a fight with Stiles.” While Melissa laid a hand on his upper back she glanced at her son and nodded towards the bookshelf. Behind some terrible sappy romance novels stood a bottle of whisky. For emergencys. He wasn't sure, but he guessed that Derek sneaked in every other week and took everything stronger than bear from his house. Probably knowing that Stiles didn't like it when he drank. But Melissa would keep an eye on him, so Derek would probably be okay with it.

A glass in his hands, he told them what happened. Or he tried to. Nate wasn't quite sure he knew what happened.

“He was upset. About the pack going away and he don't know what he's supposed to do. He wants a certificate, but not going back to school. And then he said that he needed a job so he could provide for Tia.” The Sheriff took a sip of his whisky before continuing.

“I pointed out that he was to young, that he had to finish school. That Tia could stay until we find her another home. It went all to hell from there. He said he wouldn't stay without her.” After a moment or two Melissa put her hand back on his shoulder blade.

“He was just upset. I don't think he meant it.”

“I think he did. He said he didn't care what I have for dinner.” It probably sounded silly. But stiles always fussed about his health. No matter what. He had his spies everywhere. For Stiles to say something like that was a big deal.

“I'm not saying you're wrong.” Scott talked into his thoughts.

“But I think I can understand where it comes from. I mean, he saved her life and they travelled for god knows how long together. If it were me, my wolf wouldn't let her go neither. It's against its instincts.”

“But he's no wolf. He isn't, right?” Scott grinned.

“I found out Stiles was always more wolf than I am now.” Despite everything the Sheriff managed a weak smile.

“I always thought of him more of a cat. Stubborn and never does what he's told.”

 

 

She woke up to loud voices and anger in the air. It was only after a while that she registered the words. She couldn't stay, she had to leave Stiles. Panic bubbled up. She didn't want to go, she loved Stiles. He was always nice to her, he never shout at her or hit her, he never urged her to talk. He smelled like home and safety. She didn't notice the two men had walked into the room until Stiles picked her up, arms secure around her and she burried her face in his neck. Taking in the familiar scent, now mixed with anger and hurt. I won't stay without her, he said. Like he promised. He wouldn't leave her alone.

For a moment she was unbelievable happy. But then she remembered. How Stiles had missed his father, he talked about him a lot. He loved his Dad, like she loved Stiles. She didn't wanted him to be sad again, to worry if his Dad was alright and she didn't want to leave him.

She was a big girl and she was strong, Stiles always told her that, but she couldn't stop the tears. Clinging to him, crying in his neck while he cuddled them on the bed.

“Ssh, it's okay, Baby Girl. Don't worry. I'm staying with you. I told you, right? I will never let you alone.” But then he had to go and would be sad.

“Don't worry. Dad is going to be okay with it. He just needs a bit time. No need to be afraid. We will both stay here. You'll see, he'll soon love you silly. It's alright, Honey.” His heartbeat was steady. She would believe him without hearing it. Up till now, he hasn't broken any of his promises. He kept her safe, he brought food, he gave her a new pack (which she didn't needed, she had Stiles). He would never leave her.

She wanted to thank him. Actually say it, but she couldn't. So she hugged him a bit firmer, hoping he would understand it. But Stiles hugged everyone else too when he said thank you.

She felt safe in his arms. Ever since he talked her out of the brushwood, hands and face bloody. His voice soft and apologetic, promising not to hurt her and she believed him. Let herself drag into his strong arms, being held like her family barley did. Stiles hugged her a lot, patted her hair or stroke her back. She loved it. Her wolf loved it, calming down the instant he touched her. Like now. She was confused but he held her tight, rocking them slightly back and forth and after a while she fell back asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wanted to say something .. but I can't remember. So.. sorry it turned out a bit angsty. But I have a surprise next Chapter :3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey my lovelys. Sorry I'm a bit late. Had a sort of social life this weekend. Wuhu.   
> So, I promissed a surprise last week and I hope it is one :) I love Scott but I like someone else as his BFF better. Sorry, Scott.

The next morning Stiles woke up to a growling stomach – That's what you get for skipping dinner and falling asleep calming down a kid – and a new mobile on his desk. Since he knew where his breakfast would come from, he went over to examine the small box. There was a not lying on it. > _Numbers already saved. Pack meeting at 12. Hale house_ < Stiles first though were actually more than one. 1. That's Dereks handwriting. 2. When the hell had he time to buy him that? 3. Aww, that's so sweet. The forth was a picture of the burned shell of the old Hale house.

“Well, let's hope he did more than paint the door.” He sat down, placing the note carefully on the desk and picked up his new phone. It was slight, black and claimed to be waterproof. He could have used it back when he was 16. Unlocking it, he saw that the numbers – mobile and home – of the whole pack, Melissa and his father were indeed saved.

Biting on his lip for a few moments he decided to add some people. Kayle and Marco. Isabelle. The last he heard Bobby wouldn't be able to pick up his phone anymore, but with him you never knew and so he saved the number anyway.

A shuffling from the bed let him look up. Tia was awake. First yawning, then blushing when her stomach growled loudly.

“Yeah, mine woke me too. Breakfast?” Nodding she climbed out of the bed. She stood a few seconds in front of the closed door. Considering. After a look in his direction she opened it and headed for the bathroom. While laying down the mobile he noticed something else in the box. A cover case. Complete clear beside a full moon in the right upper corner. Wow! Did Derek really obtain a sense of humour? He smiled while dressing and went down to the kitchen.

 

The morning passed by in the blink of an eye. Tia resting on the bed reading his old comics, Stiles threw himself in research. He would NOT go back to High School for two years. One year was something he could think about. It would be hard, but nothing he couldn't handle. He couldn't work then though. Which meant that his Dad would have to fund him and Tia. He would do so for Stiles, no question. But Tia? Right now he wasn't sure.

The alternative would be that he got some job and went to evening school. It would take longer, but he would at least earn some money. Or way or another he needed someone to look after Tia when he was away. He saved a few links and went on. It wasn't something he could decide just now, yet alone because his Dad played a big role in both plans.

The next point, or the next few points to be exact, on his list contained Tia. He didn't like it, but they had to make it official. No one missed her, they found her family but no one missed her. He checked. But he understood that he couldn't simply keep her. She needed papers, insurances.

True, as a wolf she probably didn't need to go to the hospital or any Doctor beside Deaton (and how do you explain that?), but better to be safe than sorry. And everything with the civil service would be a whole lot work too. But it would be worth it. He printed out a couple of applications and made some notes to explain why the hell he hadn't said something earlier, for example when the police questioned him. Something along the line of he had just gotten back and was scared and afraid they would take her away.

Next point. Sooner or later Tia had to go to school. And while he didn't thought her not talking would cause any problems with the teachers, he wasn't sure if she was ready for it. To many people, to loud, kids being assholes, and without someone to hold onto … he didn't want her to panic. As an expert for panic attacks he wished she would never have to go through one.

She could be home schooled but by whom? He had school too. Or work. His Dad to to work as well, just like Melissa. The pack would be in college. So, Derek? Of course they could pay someone for it, but he didn't liked the idea. But again it wasn't something he had to decide right now. The final word had Tia anyway.

He yawned and streched, rising his arms over his head. The little wolf was still lying on the bed, giggling over the comics. They needed to go shopping again. Yes Lydia made sure she had enough clothes, but she was a six year old. She needed more that some shirts and jeans. She needed toys and books, maybe a bicycle, a seat for the car. And – in a while – her own room.

Sighing he stood up. All those things were tangled. He had to do this one after another. And that meant he had to talk to his father. But thankfully it was almost noon.

“Come on, Honey. Let's eat something and then head to the pack.”

 

 

Stiles gaped a bit. Derek had done more than paint the door. Right now he was standing in front of a brand spanking new house, about the same size like the old one. With a wide porch that reached all around. Blue window shutter, white plastered walls and multiple balcony's on the first floor. Somewhere to the left stood a adorable white bar, doors wide open, with Dereks car inside. He could even catch a glimpse of a green house.

“No, you can't have it.” Derek called from one of the balcony's.

“What?”

“It's mine. You can't have it.”

“Wow. I bet you never shared your toys.” The wolf grinned and gripped the balustrade, leaning forward.

“NO!” But Derek already jumped.

“Two years and still not capable of using the stairs!” He snapped and turned to Tia, who looked at Derek with huge eyes.

“You!” Stiles poked her carefully in the chest.

“Will never do that! Understood?!” She nodded, only slightly disappointed.

“Good.”

“She's a wolf, Stiles. She wouldn't hurt herself.”

“She's a six year old kid. Wolf or not, you don't teach kids to jump out of the first floor. You stand by and pretend not to see when they jump from the swing!” It made the older one laugh and Stiles missed the sound as soon as it stopped.

“Come on, you can help me with the food.”

 

Slowly, one after another, the pack came by. Gathering in the big living room.

“Thanks for the mobile, by the way. I really like the case.” The corner of Dereks mouth twitched, but he just shrugged before answering.

“You're pack. We have to be able to reach you. Or you us.”

“Oh, Stiles. Are you okay?” Scott asked, munching on a sandwich.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Because of the fight with your Dad?”

“What?” It got the attention of the rest of the pack as well.

"What fight?" Isaac asked, but got ignored by everyone.

“He came by yesterday, telling Mom and me you two had a fight.” And wow. That hurt actually. Scott knew. He knew yesterday. And he couldn't even call him? Swing by, creeping through the window or something.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He guessed some of the things he thought would never change did change over the years.

“I've send you the pictures.” Derek quickly changed the subject. He shook his head when Stiles reached for his new mobile.

“Before. On Skype.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Getting me a phone was a rather spontaneous decision, huh?” Not waiting for Dereks answer he took his mobile anyway and opened Skype. But before he could download the pictures, someone called him. _Shit! Shit shit shit shit!_ He totally forgot. Clicking on the accept button he waited for the connection to built up and then the pack could hear Jackson yelling at him.

“You! Bloody son of a bitch!” Ignoring the not so silently whispers of the others he gave Jackson a shit eating grin.

“Jacky! Good to see you. How's the weather?”

“Shut it you fucking twat! You couldn't have told me you're back, happily hanging out in the petting zoo, could you? I thought about how to tell your father you're death for weeks!”

“Sorry?”

“Sorry my ass. How long are you back?”

“Only a few days. With all going on – I forgot. I'm really sorry.”

“You better are Stilinski.”

“Uhm, Jackson?” He squinted his eyes at the small display.

“What?”

“Where are you?”

“Beacon Hills.”

“What?!” Scott and Lydia joining him in his surprised yell.

“Did they hit you on the head one time to many? I wasn't going to tell your Dad that you finally got yourself killed over the phone! Now, where are you? I'll kill you myself.”

 

The wait was … awkward. To say at least. Even without Werewolf senses he knew what everyone was feeling. There was a lot of confusion. Especially on Lydias side – apparently the twins were still pack. Where ever they were. And she was still in an not quite but sort of relationship with Aiden, even though she had some lingering feelings for Jackson. Or something like that Stiles guessed.

But mostly they felt betrayed. They didn't even try to hide the hurt. Isaac gave him sad puppy dog eyes, Derek didn't look at him at all. Allison studied everyone concerned and Kira sat on the couch, not knowing what she should think. She didn't knew Jackson and Stiles was gone longer than they knew each other. But Scott – Scott! - started whining and bitching.

“You had contact with him? With Jackson?! Why not us? We're pack! And your Dad! If you could call Jackson, you could have called your Dad at least once! He was so worried. And you what? Had a mobile and Internet access?” It went on and on, hurt dripping from every word. Stiles face got closed off.

“I couldn't okay!” He finally barked.

“Don't you dare and think I wouldn't have called Dad if I could.” Move. He needed to move. Carefully he pried Tias hand from his leg, picked her up and pushed her in Dereks arms, who looked puzzled and shocked at the girl and then at Stiles, but held her anyway.

“They hadn't had me exactly on a long leash. It took me a year for them to agree to Jackson.” Pacing through the room.

“I couldn't contact anyone with direct connections to Beacon Hills. So I found Jackson, told him what was going on and made him swear not to say a single word to any of you. But, if he didn't hear from me for three weeks he was supposed to -” Thank haven, a car! Stiles stopped mid sentence and practically run outside. Not caring if the rest followed or not.

Jackson stood next to his car, gaping at the house like he did earlier. But before he could say anything Jacksons head snapped down to him.

“You bloody dumbass!” The wolf growled and then haul him in a bone breaking hug.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott and the Sheriff don't stand so good there right now, but it's going to change. I swear they're not the bad ones in this story. (Especially not the Sheriff! I love this man almost as much as I love Stiles and Derek)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to a new chapter of wtf am I even writing. If you know, please tell me 'cause I have no idea.

“Wow, Hale. A house and a kid. You really grew up. Where's Momma-bear?” One arm still slung around Stiles shoulders, he mustered the pack. Tia, offended at being thought to be Dereks child, jumped out of his arms and run to Stiles.

“Do I even wanna know?” Jackson looked down at the kid, doing his best to seem annoyed and not confused.

“I do. So why don't we all go back inside and Stiles can tell us what the hell is going on.” Lydia stood, hand on her hips, on the porch, like the leader she was. Derek had to admit that she was right, but the things _he_ really wanted to know Stiles wouldn't tell the whole group. But he hoped. Hoped that Stiles would trust him enough to share his secrets with him. Maybe some of them. He wanted to know all of them, a ridiculous wish. Stiles would nobody tell all his secrets, would nobody give so much power over him. Not his Dad, not Scott and especially not Derek. He wished it anyway. Shaking his head he followed the pack inside.

 

Lydia was still control. She sent Allison, Scott and Isaac to their seats without letting them great Jackson, who she ignored, and glared at Stiles.

“Anything you want to tell us?”

“Not really.”

“The pack has no secrets. And a lot about you don't make sense. We deserve to know. How can we help if you don't talk?”

“I'm fine.”

“No you're not. You were kidnapped and held hostage for two years. Talking about it would be good for you.” She tried to sound more soft and understanding than she felt.

“But I don't want to talk about it, okay. Not with you, not with dad. No one.”

“Come on Lydia. It's Stiles. He always talks. Just give him time.” Jackson broke it, shuffling nearer to Stiles until their shoulders touched. Derek could smell the jealousy on Scott. It probably wasn't even the fact that he got replaced but more that it was by Jackson.

“That's it. It's Stiles.” The boy piped in, wanting to prove that he knew Stiles better.

“He never talks about the big things.” Jackson studied his friend for a moment, then turning back to Scott.

“He'll talk. Someday.”

“Okay. Fine.” The red head took over again. “Maybe you don't want us to know. But we need to. You said some of them are still out there, that they'll come for you. We -”

“They're still alive?! What's wrong with you?” The pack jumped at Jacksons yell, watching him storming out, phone already pressed against his ear.

“Who is he calling?” Allison probably wasn't expecting an answer and even if it wasn't the one she got.

“His fiancé I guess.”

“His what?!”

 

It was his own fault. He jinxed it. He thought it was to quiet lately. Then Stiles showed up again and … It wasn't bad and it could be a lot worse but couldn't stop thinking. About what happened to Stiles. Why he was so afraid to tell them. What the true story behind Tia was.

And if he didn't thought about the past, he thought about the future. How things were going to change. All the things that possibly could happen if the kidnappers came back. There was to much he didn't know. And he hated to be left in the dark. Nothing he could do but wait.

And he was scared. Old guilt and nightmares came up again. He wasn't able to find Erica and Boyd. He wasn't able to find Stiles. That's what woke him up the last days. Stiles blood on his claws instead of Boyds.

Derek mentally shook himself. Trying to get get back to what was actually going on. The pack still tried to get information out of Stiles. It wouldn't work. The more they pushed, the less he would tell them.

“Let it go. Until now, nothing we had to fight notify themselves. If they show up, we'll deal with it.” He was looking at Scott. Sharing the pack meant they had to agree to the other decision. Or at least accept it.

“ _If_ they come back. I mean looking for Stiles is way to much trouble. Who would do this to themselves more than once?”

“SEE! I always told you, you have a mental illness.” Scott laughed and threw a cushion at Stiles.

At the same moment Jackson came back in. Stiles hugged the cushion and looked at him concerned.

“Becca okay?”

“Yeah, she's fine. The pack too. They keep their eyes open.”

“You have a new pack?” Isaac was to equal parts confused and pleased to hear it.

“Derek helped me find a pack. He said you didn't save me so I can go feral somewhere else.” The Alpha in question ignored the soft gasps and went to the kitchen. Scott could deal with them for a while.

“Why don't we go the new Diner? Danny could come too.” Allison suggested. The other girls were right on it.

“You could tell us about England.”

“And Becca.”

 

The pack left and Derek stayed in the kitchen. He guessed Jackson only went to see Danny again. They asked Stiles as well but he declined, wanting to talk to his father. And yet he kept sitting on the couch, playing with his phone. Derek could her the soft tap tap tap on the display. He wanted to go to him, ask questions like the pack did, keeping him until he told everything, until Derek could protect him. But he knew, pushing would get him nothing. His wolf was agitated and growling. Forcing it back, he let go of the stone counter and went to Stiles.

Distracted he patted Tias hair when he walked by.

“I wanted to ask something of you.” Stiles spoke, his attention still on his mobile, before Derek could even sit down.

“A favour.”

“Okay.” He leaned back and raised one eyebrow.

“I need to talk to Dad. But I think it would be best, if Tia wasn't with me.” The girl tensed instantly and grabbed on to him.

“It wouldn't be long. And I thought, maybe you could look after her.”

“Sure.” Stiles eyed him suspiciously.

“That was easy...”

“You're both pack. And I don't mind looking after her. Besides, if that's all you let me do to help.” He shrugged before turning to Tia.

“We could train your hearing. We walk around a bit and when you can't hear his heartbeat anymore we go back.” Hesitant she nodded.

“And if he keep us waiting we'll buy waffles and I'll tell you some funny story’s about Stiles. Would that be okay?” This time she didn't hesitate.

 

 

Tia was good. She could hear Stiles heartbeat a whole block away. Whenever she lot it, she clutched his hand and looked up to him with wide eyes.

“You love him, right. That's why you can hear him so good.” He crouched down in front of her.

“The more you love someone, the better you can hear them.” After a moment of consideration she pointed at him.

“I'm their alpha. I have to be better so I can take care of them.” Personal bonds came on top of pack bonds. And Stiles was irritating. His wolf (and he) never knew if he should like it or hate it. One way or another he could always hear Stiles best. Of course that was because Stiles was human and couldn't defend himself like the rest could.

But that wasn't quite true anymore, was it? Right now he tried not to listen to Stiles talk with his father. Tried not to pick up the slight wobble in his voice or the relief. God, he wanted to know.

For example why Jackson did nothing even though he knew. Why Stiles heartbeat picked up whenever Jackson, and he did it a lot, glanced at his neck. And not in a sexy way. He wanted to know why Stiles felt so guilty about Tia.

A tug at his hand brought him back. They were standing in front of a toy shop. In the display window was a red plush fox, about as big as her head, and Tia was starring at it with big eyes. Didn't Stiles said that she liked foxes?

“Do you want it?” She turned so fast, she almost fell over. The skip in her heart betraying her shaking head. He couldn't help but smile.

“Come on then. Lets get you that fox. And then some waffles?” Her smile was blinding.

 

The till girl ranked her eyes up and down his chest, smiling playful. One would think after years of coming here they would stop that. They didn't. She worked here for more than a year and every time she tried to flirt with him. He didn't remembered because of her long blond hair or her big brown eyes, but because she always smelled like a whole bottle of fake and overly sweet vanilla.

“Two -” Tia tugged heavily on his hand, holding three fingers up when he looked down.

“Three waffles with powdered sugar, please.” Vanilla-girls eyes flickered from him to Tia and back. Clearly disappointed. Hopefully she would stop now.

Back outside, Tia already nibbling at her waffle, they almost run into Stiles. He had to have a sixth sense for food or something. For a moment he was puzzled when Derek thrust the sweet in his hands.

“Aww! You brought me food!” Taking a big bite, he closed his eyes and fucking moaned. Dereks wolf decided spontaneous that he liked that sound a whole lot and started to whine in the back of his consciousness. Praying to the moon that he didn't blush he took a bite himself.

“You big softy!” What? He must have looked confused enough, because Stiles sucked a bit sugar from his thumb and laughed.

“The fox.” Oh. To distracted he just shrugged.

“Can I see it?” Stiles brushed his hands clean on his jeans – where they always so tight? Oh for heavens sake, he growled at his wolf and stomped on his paws like a moping five year old and returned his attention to reality. Stiles looked up at him, a cheeky grin on his face.

“You think we can guess the name of this little buddy?”

“Probably not, but we can try.” He had had three younger siblings, the names kids could come up were ridiculous.

They reached one of those tiny 'green oases' – a patch of grass, a few trees and some flowers – and sat down on one of the benches.

“First, is it a he? Good. Mhmm, Balthazar?” Tias eyes started to sparkle immediately, but she shook her head.

“Bartholomäus? Ivan? Sir Hubert? Miguel?” That earned him a shove from Derek.

“What?! It could be!” He rolled his eyes and started guessing himself.

“Arthur?”

“Paul?”

“Theodore?”

“Maria?”  
“That's not even a male name.”

“It is in Italy.”

“And she knows that?”

“Oh, than not. Alfred?”

“Colin?”

“Bruce?”

“Sam?”

“Augustus?” Tias grin morphed into a smile and got wider and wider. By the end she was shaken with silent laughter so hard, she almost fell from the bench. Derek couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy. Tears streamed down Tias face. The last bit of her waffle laying in the dirt, she let it fell when Stiles suggested 'Archibold'. Stiles face relaxed and red from his own laughter, his eyes bright.

“Okay, I give up. Can you write it?” He dug out his mobile and held it out for her. She grabbed it and started typing > _H e n r y_ <.

 

He brought them back home. Of you asked Derek both, Stiles and Tia, shouldn't be without werewolf protection at any time. But no one asked him. Not even the sheriff thought that some sort of police protection was necessary. And as it were Stiles didn't really needed a bodyguard anymore. It was just weird to think of Stiles as someone who could defend a werewolf. No, not weird, different. Stiles could always hold himself against all things that go bump in the night. He was never weak, only human.

On the other hand, if his kidnappers trained him they were probably still stronger than him. But maybe – they stopped at the door and Derek started talking without really knowing what he wanted to say, shoving his hand in his jeans pockets.

“Maybe you two could come by sometimes when the pack is not around. So you could train. If you wanted to.” Stiles studied him for a while and he just wanted to vanish.

“Thanks.” The boy finally said.

“I think I will.”

“Okay, then.” He turned around, ready to run home. But before he could make as much as one step Stiles grabbed his shirt. Why was everybody grabbing and tugging him today?

“I don't think – I can't -” Taking a deep breath he tried again.

“Would it be okay if I told you what happened in parts?” Fuck yes! He could tell him via charade if it meant he tell him anything. He shrugged with his left shoulder.

“Sure.”

 

 

_They came when he slept. Of course. He was constantly afraid. Most of all of sleep. Of waking up and being trapped again in his own mind. Not being in control of his own body. Being again the monster in everybody’s nightmares. He couldn't stop thinking about the things he'd done. Seeing them. Feeling. He killed. He was the Cheshire Cat and everybody else a mouse. The whole town was his chessboard and nobody knew how to play._

_He still felt the sword in his hands as he twisted it in Scotts gut . He still heard himself order the onis to kill his pack. All the things he did. And all those things he was planning to do. All those horrible plans. He could see them, knew how everyone would react, knew exactly how it would end._

_So yes, he was afraid. And still didn't know if this was real or just another trick. He counted his fingers numerous times per hour. Holding them up or tapping with his thumb against the other fingertips. The outcome was always the same: five. And yet he didn't trust himself._

_At some point he must have fallen asleep, to exhaust to fight it any longer. At first he thought it was another nightmare that woke him. Like the past weeks. Months. Until he felt a hand on his mouth. Squeezing his eyes shut he started tapping his fingers. But still, always five. Five, five, five._

“ _I told you, we should have get him months before. Look at him! That thing broke him!” The voice was deep, scratchy._

“ _But now he could have run away. And we don't have to break him.” It was the same voice. Maybe a bit colder._

“ _It's less messy if we do it ourself.”_

“ _Just get on with it. I don't want to be here when the Sheriff comes back.” The hand on his mouth was replaced with something wet and cold and disgus-_

 

_The next time he woke up, he wasn't in his bed any longer. Or his house. And probably not even in Beacon Hills. He tapped his fingers against his leg. One, two, three, four, five. Not a dream then, just a usual fucked up day. He had a lot of them since Scott got bitten by creepy zombie wolf. Above his head hung a old and ugly plastic lamp, under him he could feel rough carpet and the walls had some pattern on it, that most definitely was already ancient in the 70's._

“ _Don't get to comfy. We're only staying for a night.” It was the same voice. Deep, scratchy, cold. Strong hands lifted him up, placing him in a worn out, faint green chair. Stiles shook his head to cast out the fog in it. He still saw the man in front of him double. Tall, broad shoulders, chest, everything. Short black hair and eyes like molten chocolate. One leaned back, one forward. So no double vision but twins._

“ _Lets get this straight. I'm Fred, that's George. And if you make one joke about it, your nose will have a lot more character.” Okay, no Harry Potter fans then._

“ _You come with us and we'll train you. You going to be one of us. The better you behave, the more freedom you'll get.” He wanted to point out that he didn't want to become one of them. Who ever they were. But his tongue still felt thick and fuzzy. A Headache crept up his neck._

“ _Lest you don't run back to Daddy we have a little something for you.” George stood up, a collar in his hand. Black with gold letters on the inside. Not gold paint but real gold._

“ _Black goes with everything, right.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I wanted to tell you guys something else, but my brain is a sieve lately and I'm tired. So let's just assume I wanted to tell you that I love you all. :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm late. We had some family trouble and I didn't had time for writing. But here we go again. I hope you like it. :)

They mad him wear a collar! Like a fucking dog! Derek wasn't angry, he was furious. But he had no illusions that that was one of the more pleasant acts they pulled. It explained Jacksons fascination with Stiles neck. He probably had seen him with it.

He knew Jackson had his own pack to protect, but he wanted to be angry at someone, wanted to blame someone for something. Someone else but him. And Jackson had known that Stiles was kidnapped, had seen him in the collar. He could have done something! If not contact them directly, then around a few corners. He could have paid someone. Hell, he could have paid someone to pay someone to do it.

Dereks fist collided with a tree, splinters flying everywhere. His knuckles already healed before he removed his hand. Only to hid it again for good measures. Stiles hadn't told him much. And in that short time his hand flew more than once to his neck, feeling for the collar. Clearly it had some powers. He would do everything he could do to make sure Stiles would never have to wear it again.

When he made clear that he was going to tell Derek at least something, he was glad, almost happy. Excited. Now he knew he would – no, he wouldn't regret it. No matter how sick it made him feel. No matter how desperately he wanted to rip somebody’s throat out. Stiles trusted him enough to tell him. He tried not to think _only him_. Stiles told him because he already knew something. But it was hard to ignore that Stiles wanted nobody else to know. Not even his Dad. That not even Jackson knew everything. Stiles trusted him and he would kill everyone left alive for hurting him.

 

 

He dreamed about faceless men, soft laughs and bright eyes in blue and honey. Grumbling Derek reached for his mobile who's loud chirping had woken him. 5:30 am. The display was to lucid after hours in the dark and he had to squint his eyes, still grumbling, to make out the numbers. Or why it had made noise.

Apparently because Stiles had send him a message.

> _Can I bring Tia over? Need to run._ < Coffee. It felt like ages to type in _ok_ and hit send. Coffee! He stumbled out of bed and towards the kitchen. Maybe he should have bought one of those ridiculous expensive, technic overflowing coffee machines. One of those things where you press a button and when you go to the kitchen the coffee is already finished.

Derek only waited until enough for one cup was in the can, the rest could run through while he was drinking. Leaning against the counter he took a deep breath, then a deep gulp. To hot, but he didn't care. Thinking about his dream. Which was Isaacs fault alone. The boy came by later yesterday, claiming to get some clothes before going to Allison. As if half of his wardrobe wasn't already at her place. He came back down, spare clothes – and god knew what else – in his backpack. Grinning mischievous and asking how his date with Stiles went.

He had no idea how he managed not to blush like a high school girl with a crush. Or a high school boy, since all girls he knew were to bad ass to blush. No matter what he said Isaac didn't believe him, but patted his shoulder explaining that he didn't look at the pack like he looked at Stiles. Bullshit. Apparently that was enough to let them creep into his dreams. Whatever. It was better than nightmares.

 

 

He tried, he really tried, but he couldn't fall back asleep. Tossing and turning, breathing slow. He needed to run, to move, to do something. Before he could run all the time, trained daily. With Fred and George he had to anyway and with Tia he could when he wanted to. Now he had to be so careful. The pack couldn't know. He was sure all of them would understand, help him even. At least with the training bit. Everything else …

Deaton suspected something already. Thankfully not the bad part. Or maybe he did. Who knew with Deaton. That man was a modern sphinx. And Derek. He really hoped he would understand. Accept it. Not that he was in any position to say something. Derek had his own load of shit he'd done.

 

Around 5:30 he gave up, sending Derek a message. He offered, so. Even though he probably hadn't had this time in mind. But Stiles needed to run. He felt like he had to much – or less – Adderall. He rolled out of bed and stumbled to his dresser, grabbing some shorts and a T-shirt. Pulling on his running shorts he wondered if Derek would question him about the long white scar on his lower leg. But he hadn't said anything about the one under his eye, so he would probably be good.

While he was fighting to order his arms and head through the shirt, his mobile howled, announcing a new message.

> _ok_ < Relived he quickly went to the bathroom. After packing a few things for Tia – some clothes, her toothbrush and the pager – Stiles didn't even consider to wake her, but picked her simply up and went to his Jeep, making sure Henry didn't fall from her fingers.

 

When Derek opened the door, Stiles had to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from gaping. He would _not_ gape every time he came here! Derek stood there with sleep tousled hair, barefoot, wearing only a pair of worn, soft looking PJ pants, which hung lose on his hips. He looked …

“You look adorable.” … ravishing.

“Says the one with the sleeping kid in his arms. I made coffee.”

“Mhmm!” He followed the Alpha to the kitchen.

“When I take over the world you get your own holiday.” Derek snorted and held a cup of coffee out for him.

“Drink. I go change.” He shifted Tias weight on his hips a bit and took a sip. Hot liquid heaven.

“You're coming with?” Derek stopped at the doorway, looking back disappointed.

“If it's okay.” Running was always more fun with someone else, so he nodded, giving the other a crocked smile.

“Sure.” Taking another sip he added.

“But in this case, do you have a spare bed for tiny wolf here? She likes to wake up by rolling around and I don't want her to fall from the couch.” Derek thought for a moment, thankfully ignoring the noises Stiles made while drinking his coffee.

“God, I hope you know, you'll never get rid of me now. You're my personal coffee god.” He sniggered when Derek rolled his eyes.

“Come on. She can sleep upstairs.” He led them into a generous room with a big bed made out of dark wood, maybe walnut. On the walls hung a few framed pictures of forests. On the bedside table stood a single picture of Derek and Laura, heads next to each other, lying in the grass, laughing.

“Derek, is that your room?”

“Yes.” Taking some clothes form the dresser he went to the master bathroom.

“You don't have to ...” Tia was already curled up on the cushions, Henry still pressed against her chest.

“She knows me better than the rest of the pack. This way she probably won't freak out waking up somewhere else.” Stiles hummed and put the pager in one of her hands.

“She wont. Or she would have already woken up.” Placing a kiss on her hair he didn't saw Derek emerge from the other room, but didn't jump when he suddenly felt him next to him. Maybe that was why Tia trusted Derek already so much. Because Stiles did.

He turned around and flopped his hand against Dereks chest, taking in the long anthracite running pants and the light grey T-Shirt. It would probably kill him on the spot to wear some colours.

“Lets go.”

“How - “ The wolf started when Stiles opened the front door.

“Mhm?”

“How long have you been travelling together?”

“Uh, a bit over a month, I think. We weren't exactly using the road, so it took a bit longer.”

 

They weren't running long, maybe half an hour before Derek suddenly stopped. Tilting his head like a confused puppy. Listening. Or feeling or something. So Stiles listened as well. It was quiet. To early for anyone else to be outside. Birds singing, wind rustling the leaves. It smelled like damp earth, wood and leaves. Fresh and mouldy at the same time. But he couldn't hear or feel something that alarmed him.

“What is it?” He was good, but no wolf and there were things he couldn't catch up.

“There is another wolf here.” And then Derek started running again, leaving the path. Stiles had trouble keeping up.

After a few miles they stopped shortly before a clearing. Pressing themselves in the shadows of the trees and waited for the intruder to show up. Stiles took two deep breathes and then a stranger stepped out of the tree line not to far away. The man moved carefully, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

He was around 40, had brown hair, a thick beard and was living in the woods for a while. Stiles knew, since he looked the same on his way home. Derek growled low in his throat and the man swirled around, freezing when he saw them.

“You're trespassing my territory. What do you want here?”

“I'm sorry, Alpha. I didn't want -” The stranger barred his neck, eyes flicking around. When they landed on Stiles the fear turned into downright panic.

“Oh god, please. P-please. I'm just – I-I'm on my w-way to a new pack. I didn't d-do anything!” Stiles looked down on himself, realising that he wear a bright red, hooded shirt. Well shit. Now what? He could play dump. Or play it down. He could explain everything, but that would ruin his image and that could come in handy one day. So he jerked his head towards Derek.

“He's the Alpha. His call.” Said Alpha had given up to threat the passing omega and studied Stiles with a scowl.

“You can pass. Just be quick.” The man nodded fiercely, already turning to run, tail between his legs.

“Omega!” Stiles hadn't decided what to do whit his reputation. And as long as the rest were still outside looking for him, he couldn't risk any gossip. Even if they would check for him here first.

“You've never seen me. Not a single word to anybody or I swear I'll find you.” The wolfs eyes widen again.

“I won't s-say anything!”

“Good.” Slipping back into the forest, the man was probably scared for life. But he wouldn't say something, he wouldn't come back and he wouldn't make any trouble. So who was Stiles to worry about him. He had to worry about himself. Derek was still studying him, deep wrinkles on his forehead.

He looked like he wanted to slam him into a tree and only let go when he got his answers. But he didn't. He didn't yell neither. Crossing his arms, starring at him.

“Maybe you should tell me another part of that story.” Yeah, he should. Derek found out more and more anyway. By this rate he probably had to do something impossible tomorrow. And once Derek saw his other eyes, everything would be over.

Why was it so hard to hide all this from Derek? Okay, this right now, totally not his fault, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he wanted to tell Derek. He wanted him to know. It should be Scott or his Dad, not Derek. Picking on his red shirt he opened his mouth, but Derek shook his head.

“Not here. Back ho- back at the house. Over coffee. I think I will need it.”

 

 

_They spent the night in the shabby motel. Stiles could choose between a uncomfortable chair and the filthy floor. Both didn't exactly looked inviting. But he was still tired and dizzy from the chloroform. Uncertain he looked between his possibilities. He would sleep better on the floor, but God knows what he would catch only lying on it. The twins chuckled darkly, one of them – Fred? - stood up and pulled a black bundle out of one of the bags, tossing it at him._

“ _Sleep on the floor.” The bundle turned out to be a sleeping bag. Even if it was one of the evil twins (he obviously had no luck with twins), he would prefer it over the chair._

 

_At day they travelled, only stopping once or twice for food and a trip to the loo. The twins talked softly to each other but explained nothing to Stiles. In the evenings, after they ate at a diner, they locked him into their room and vanished for a couple of hours. When they came back, sweaty and dirty, they showered and went to bed. Not caring what he did as long as he was quiet. Something he learned really quick. Be quiet or they hurt you. Slam your face against the metal of the car, twist your arm or simply punch you. So he kept quiet._

_He still slept on the floor - “Nothing against you, kiddo, but everything else would be to expensive or complicated” - or better, he was lying in the sleeping bag, starring at the ceiling until he was to exhausted to keep his eyes open any longer. He still counted his fingers, he still was afraid of the dark and falling asleep. Most of the time he stayed awake till 4 am, waking up only a few hours later, shaking and gasping for air, screams stuck in his throat._

_One night George gripped his shoulder, looking sternly in his eyes._

“ _Look kid, I won't say it wasn't your fault, you wont believe it anyway. But I can promise you something. If that thing ever comes back, we'll take you down before you can do anything.” And then he left to roll in the dirt or whatever they did._

_Stiles knew if it would come it it, they would kill him without a second thought. His friends tried to save him, let him slip through their fingers again and again because they didn't want to hurt him. But Fred and George? They wouldn't let him hurt anybody, himself included and it made him sleep better. Took a bit of his fears. He believed them._

 

_After a few days they stopped at a rather large stone cabin in the mountains. A clearing in front of it, surrounded by woods and rocks. It looked nice, not like something a pair of weird kidnappers would own._

“ _Welcome to your new home!” George grabbed his bag from the trunk and grinned toothily._

“ _Isabelle should be home. And the others will be here in a few days.” Fred explained, also grinning._

“ _Izzybelle, we're back!” They called out unison once all three of them were inside._

“ _Don't call me that, assholes!” Someone yelled back._

“ _We brought you a baby brother.” Silence. Then a soft thud and shortly after a young woman came out of one of the rooms, wearing dark skinny jeans and a olive green top. Her long black hair messily braided and she had the greenest eyes Stiles had ever seen. Around the neck she worn the same black collar, although not as tight._

_She mustered him with big eyes._

“ _Hey, I'm Isabelle.”_

“ _Stiles” He waved a bit, feeling awkward._

“ _Come on. I give you a tour.” Isabelle was great. She showed him the house and his room and gave him a few do's & don't's. Always do what they say. Push yourself hard, but not to hard. If you really like something say so._

“ _I loved the knives. And they gave me extra lessons and a set of pretty bad ass knives!” Don't cry if they punish you. If you need something write it on the list in the kitchen._

“ _And they mean everything. Doesn't matter if it's toothpaste or a TV for your room. The only thing we don't get is stuff to communicate to the outside world with. Mobile, Internet and so on.”She ended the tour in the kitchen._

“ _We take turns at cooking and cleaning. Or who ever is here, really. Which means we only get decent food when Phil is here. And he's almost never here.”_

“ _I can cook.”After dinner the twins decided they wouldn't take turns at cooking anymore. At least not when Stiles was there._

 

_Later the twins and Isabelle disappeared. Training, Belle told him, as if it wasn't obvious. Left alone Stiles trailed through the house and finally settled in the library. He already knew that this was the best room in the house (the kitchen was pretty cool though). Bookshelves around the whole room, up until right under the ceiling. Soft leader chairs, big enough to curl into and two working tables. But the books! Even Deaton would kill anyone for only half of these. Stiles felt a little bit like in heaven._

_New books and old ones and ancient ones, from all around the world, in every language possible. About mystical creatures and magic, biology, plants and diaries from hunters. Isabelle woke him a few hours later, a book in his lap. She was wearing a soft grey onesie PJ and looked ridiculous cute._

“ _Go to bed, Stiles.”_

 

 

 

Derek didn't know what to think. He was furious at Fred and George for hurting him, taking him in the first place. He was glad that Isabelle seemed to help him, but didn't like her at the same time. He was hurt that Stiles was relived that they would kill him, even if he understood it. And he was confused. Why did Stiles never try to run away? Why did it sound like he didn't want to come back? What was it with this damn collar?  
He needed more answers, but knew that was all he would get today. Still, he couldn't stop himself from asking.

“Do you liked it there?” Stiles didn't answer right away. For a long moment he just looked down, twisting his empty mug between his hands.

“They saved me.” He murmured.

“After the nogitsune – by taking me, they saved me.” It wasn't exactly an answer to his question and not at all what he hoped for. It felt like a blow to his gut. _They_ saved him. Not his pack, not his friends and family. Not the ones that suffered for him, did everything to get him out alive. They saved his live. And Derek always thought the healing would come with time. Just like it did with him.

But apparently having a pack wasn't enough. Hurt turned into anger.

“Is that why you never tried to escape?” His voice a dangerous growl. Stiles head snapped up. He looked at him with big Bambi eyes, an unreadable expression in them. But he didn't say anything. It was answer enough. He turned around and left the house without another word.

When he came back – hours later – Stiles and Tia were gone. Not that he expected them to stay. He tried not to feel guilty and hurt. It didn't work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Fun Fact (because I don't know if it will come up again in the story): The pictures in Dereks bedroom are from his mother. She loved it to wander around the woods and take pictures. She was always scared that she would lose some of them, so she stored copys in a bank safe. After Derek rebuild the house, he got them out and gave a few to Cora, too.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of advice? Sit straight, make some sport (jogging, yoga, whatever) - a slipped dice is sooo not fun! My back is killing me. Not as in it hurts a bit but as in pain right down to your ankle, sitting is agony, walking is hell (the first 10 minutes at least) and you wake up at night because you wanted to turn around. 
> 
> And know I forgot what I really wanted to say. I'm pretty unsure about Kiras part. She's nice and all but I just don't know ther that well. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to tell me any logical mistakes and stuff like that. Critique helps :) (But I take kudos as well)

They met at a coffee shop. But this time only him, Isaac, Lydia and Jackson.

“Why do I have to see you again McCall?” Obviously Jackson could still be .. Jackson.

“So we can talk about Stiles.” He replied, taking a sip from his caramel Moccacino.

“Oh hell no. I won't talk behind his back.”

“You don't talk behind his back. But he won't say anything and you know -”

“I know bullshit.” Jackson grumbled, ready to stand up but Lydias hand on his arm held him back.

“You know more than we do. Stiles is my friend . He's scared, jumpy and he lied to us. And I want to know why.” Her voice cold and distant.

“You know something.” Isaac pressed on.

“You're concerned for your pack. And we are for ours.” Jackson slumped back, one hand covering his eyes.

“If Stiles want you to know, he'll tell you.”

“Please.” Scott had no problem with begging if it helped Stiles. Or using his puppy eyes. He was still sort of jealous of Jackson. It was ridiculous and unfounded, he knew. But Stiles was his best friend, they were practically brothers. Some mentally deranged … assholes took Stiles from him, he wouldn't let anybody take his title as best friend.

“Tell us something.”

“Fine.” Their former pack mate gave in. He crossed his arms and looked generally unhappy in his chair.

“They took him, they trained him - don't ask me in what, I don't know. And it was good for him.”

“Good for him?” Disbelieve clear in his voice.

“They kidnapped him. They're going after him again. They didn't let him talk to any of us.”

“I didn't say they were good. But whatever they did with him was good.”

“How so?” Isaac pushed his half eaten blueberry muffin away, but drank from his white coffee. Meanwhile Jackson squirmed in his seat.

“He told me about the nogitsune. How he felt afterwards. He said he isn't defenceless anymore.” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table.

“He's stronger. Don't tell me you haven't noticed that he changed, McCall.”

“Of course I have!” He fought the urge to pout down. Because how couldn't he have? Stiles was more focused, he was more in control of his body parts, he was calmer and not even his usuall wide shirts could hide his new muscles. But he didn't knew what to make of it. And he refused to believe that _they_ helped him. They held him hostage for heavens sake, they weren't he good ones.

“Do you know who they are?” Lydia asked into his thoughts. That was why it was always good to keep her around – most of the time she asked the right questions. Between her and Stiles there was nothing they couldn't figure out. But now they had to figure out Stiles and he hoped Lydia was enough.

“No. He didn't tell me.”

“He'll tell Derek.”

“What?” Both, Scott and Jackson snapped their heads around, starring at Isaac. Lydia only nodded, which was not helping at all.

“What what? Derek accompanied him and Tia to Deaton, yesterday they sat in the park and ate waffles like a white-fence-apple-pie-family and today Stiles showed up at the house around dawn.” Being replaced not only by Jackson but Derek too? Hell no!

“Oh, don't pull that face, Scott.” Lydia scolded.

“As long as he talks to anyone that's enough. And if it's important Derek will tell us.”

“It's okay if only Derek knows but I get squeezed like lemon?” She looked him up and down, unimpressed with a hint of disappointed. Scott winced slightly. Except for Allison, she attaced the whole pack more than once with this look.

“You're not pack. You knew what was going on and didn't do anything. So, no, you knowing something won't give you extra points.”

 

 

Kira was on her way back from work. She loved working in the little Asian shop and she liked the morning shift. This way she still had something from the day. The customers where nice and had time to gossip a bit. No one got mad for waiting to long. Most of the time the whole shop chatted with each other anyway.

She hasn't gone far, still in black jeans and a light blue silk blouse (she thought it was rather formal but her boss was a bit weird like that), when she run into Stiles. On on hand he had Tia, in the other two brimming tote bags.

“Hey.”

“Hey” Uncertain she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“What are you doing?” Stiles glanced first at the bags, then at Tia and finally back at her.

“We ruin my fathers credit card by buying toys.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It is, right?” He let go of Tias hand to patten her hair and the girl smiled back up at him.

“We're going to invade the book shop next. Do you wanna come with us?” As far as she could remember, Stiles was smart and funny. He was Scotts friend and pack. But most of all, the whole mess with the nogitsune was her mothers fault. Even if she had nothing to do with it, she had at least to try and make it up to him.

The relationship with her mother was better, but not the way it was before. She still wasn't sure if it ever would be. Kira didn't know how Stiles thought about it, but she had to start somewhere. And it wasn't as if she hadn't time.

“Sure.”

 

Stiles showed Tia a lot of books he read when he was her age. He told her excitedly about the story, hands flailing through the air. And she beamed up to him, eyes sparking with joy. He laughed when she gasped at the villains and scowled when he wouldn't tell her the end.

Stiles was a good father. Not that she would tell him that, not now anyway. No one said anything about Tia staying with him or adoption and he could also be her big brother. But Kira just knew that he would never give her up. He would scare of anyone who bullied her and play horrible pranks to her first boyfriend. She knew because sometimes she catches her father look at her the same way Stiles looked at Tia.

“Oh, I have to ask De-” He frowned.

“Is Peter still around?” Kira shrugged.

“He comes and goes. But he's usually there when the pack needs help. It's creepy.”

“He hasn't changed then. Maybe he knows.” The last part was more of a quite statement to himself but she heard it nonetheless.

“Knows what?” She picked up a book herself and skipped through the pages, smiling at the familiar drawings.

“If there are some werewolf children books.”

“Why don't you ask Derek?”

“I – uhm, I don't think he likes me very much right now.”

“A fight already? It's like you never where gone.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she could have slapped herself.

“Uh, it's just Scott says you two used to fight a lot and it's like no time has passed and - “ He gave her a weak smile.

“It doesn't feel that way.”

“Stiles.” Oh, wasn't she great? Making him sad the second they were alone. She wanted to prove him that she wasn't her mother, that he could trust her.

“I could ask him.” Was what she settled for after a long moment.

“Thanks.” He looked pleased but still sort of defeated.

“But I think that's something I have to do myself. He'd know it was for me anyway.” Stiles placed a last book in the purple plastic basket and went down to the cash point, Kira and Tia in tow.

 

 

Jackson sat on his hotel bed, swirling his mobile between his hands. His parents sold the house after moving to England. Never wanting to come back. Back then he wasn't exactly happy about the change, nor was he angry about it. Still to shaken from finding out what he was, what he had done. But he liked his new pack and Becca was definitely worth it.

He let himself fall back. It was an exhausting morning. Fuck, this whole trip was exhausting. Being interrogated by his friends was no fun. Where they still friends? Probably not, but they were pack once and that made them sort of friends. Or maybe not. He wasn't sure and he didn't really wanted to think about it.

He came here for Stiles. Because he promised him. So came back. Worried and scared and sad.

 

_The first time Stiles name popped up in his skype account, he thought it was an extremly bad joke, but he clicked on 'accept' anyway. Maybe just to know they were all still alive. And then he saw Stiles. Grimm and uncertain, with a split lip and a black leader collar around his neck. He'd finally grew out his terrible buzz cut._

_Before he could snarl something, Stiles was already talking. Hadn't changed so much then._

“ _I need you to listen, okay. Carefully. I need your help.” The kid definitely needed help. Running around with a collar, really?_

“ _No, I need a favour. A really fucking big favour. But it's going to be dangerous for you. And your pack.”_

“ _Then why should I do it?” He wasn't in the mood for Stiles weirdness._

“ _No reason at all. I can't make you. And the thing is, I can't tell you what it is about before you swear up and down to play by the rules.”_

“ _You know me, Stilinski. I don't play by the rules – I make them.” Okay, so maybe he was a dick, but training went shit and Stiles could always take it. He waited a few seconds for the human to reply, but nothing came. Then not._

“ _How's the pack?”_

“ _I don't know.” Stiles turned his face away, looking like a kicked puppy with a bruise fading on his temple._

“ _What do you mean you don't know?”_

“ _I haven't talked to them in about a year.”_

“ _What? Why?” The boy never could stay away from the pack, not even if he wanted to. So what the hell was going on?_

“ _I_ can't _tell you!” Jackson couldn't tell which emotion in Stiles voice was strongest. Frustration, desperation, guilt or grief. But it made him suspicious. Or more than he already was._

“ _Why me?”_

“ _You're the only one my Dad wouldn't kill on the spot.” Okay..._

“ _You're in pretty deep shit, huh?”_

“ _Depends on the perception.” Yeah, Stiles was still the same old asshole. But he helped save his life, so._

“ _Okay, fine. I swear on .. whatever.”_

“ _There is no backing out, no way to break it but by my word.” Despite his words Stiles was almost glowing with hope._

“ _I'm going to regret this, right? Now tell me on what I should swear before I change my mind.” The boy send him a few line in Latin, explaining that it was a spell to make sure he wouldn't break his word. Jackson didn't like it, he felt like something cold squeezed his chest. And yet he read the spell out loud without over thinking it._

“Linguam ligat, ex animo

Me eloquium meum

Constaret, quam ferre possent, iurare index

Ego confido, cor meum et animam

Ego jurare _” Fire run through his veins, making his vision blurry and impossible to breathe. It took a moment, but after he felt normal again, after he sucked in some air, Stiles told him what he had to do, what he wasn't allowed to do. He reminded him, that he would maybe (probably) get a warning, just to make sure._

_And true to his words, only one or two days later his pack run into some wolfsbane bullets. Nothing serious happened – just a warning. Nobody asked him, so he hadn't to explain that it was his fault. After that he and Stiles talked at least once a week over Skype. He wouldn't tell him where he was or what they did exactly, but beside that there was nothing they wouldn't talk about._

 

And only now, over a year later he started to realise what really happened. He was scared what they would do to Stiles if they got him back. To his pack just because he knew.

When Stiles hugged him yesterday, he whispered something in his ear. Barley audible, even for him. The release of the spell. He needed to go home, be with his pack, tell them what he did, that they could be in danger because of him. Hopefully they would understand that he did it to help a friend. That they – and Becca – would forgive him.

But at the same time, he didn't want to leave Stiles alone. Not that he wasn't alone, not really. Just.. leaving know would feel that way. Staying would feel like betraying his pack. In the end he already knew what he would do. And he knew that Stiles would yell at him, why the fuck he wasn't already on that stupid plane back home. He just didn't like it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't speak Latin. I have absolutely no idea. Any mistakes are made by google (so you can be sure there are some). In english the spell says: "Bound by tounge, by soul - I give my word - Betray the swear would cost more than able to bear - I give my trust, my heart and life - I swear."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So there are a few things I need to tell you. Maybe you want to sit down?  
> 1\. It's only a short chapter. Sorry.  
> 2\. I'm horrible at this text message abbreviation stuff in my own language. So I didn't even try here. I hope that's okay.  
> 3\. Okay, so the thing is I have to go to the hospital on monday. For about a week. And I don't know when I will be able to post another chapter. *hides behind cushion* But I swear to Dylans yummy moles and Tylers cute bunny teeth that I will not abandon this story! So, no worries, it's just going into hiatus...

Fine, maybe he reacted a bit harsh, but it was leaving or letting his wolf take over. After hearing what Stiles said, what he didn't said but hung heavy in the air – it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Knowing that they weren't enough, that he wasn't enough. It squeezed his chest, making it hard to breathe. It brought up old doubts, he thought he had buried deep down.

Why was he never enough? Not enough for Laura, for Erika and Boyd, enough to save them, to be an Alpha for the new pack. Not enough to protect and help Stiles.

 

He run miles and miles through the forest. First aimlessly then along the border of their territory. Running away from the haunting image of Stiles pleading eyes, from his own thoughts. It shouldn't hurt. By all means, he was the one who should understand it best.

After the fire he and Laura run to New York. After he gave up his Alpha powers for Cora they run to Colorado, to a pack near the Rocky Mountains that took her in before. Out of everyone in the pack he was the one who should understand that sometimes leaving all behind was the only thing that helped. At least for a while. Until the open gashes on ones soul where closing.

Okay, maybe the healing thing hadn't worked so much the first time. Coming back helped. Stiles helped.

It hit him like running into a brick wall. Stiles helped him. Not just in the 'saving his life' way. Always fighting him, always telling him off when he was wrong or stupid. Always fighting for him, being the one that stood beside him. 'Always coming back' his wolf supplied.

Derek stood up – when had he sat down? Maybe this time it was his turn to come back. And no matter how much Stiles liked it with them, how good it was for him, he came home. He wanted to come home, to his father, to his pack. That should be enough. And suddenly it started to feel like it really was.

 

Of course when he finally made it home Stiles and Tia where long gone. It was probably best. He went upstairs to take a shower, and downstairs again to make himself something to eat. He would give Stiles a bit more time to calm down and then he would apologise.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, a spoon in his mouth, his mobile chirped.

**From:** Stiles

> _Are there any werewolfy kiddy books?_ <

Stiles. And not mad at him. Or not enough to pretend he didn't exist.

**To:** Stiles

> _I'm not sure if there are books, but I know story’s. I can ask Peter._ <

**From:** Stiles

> _Awesome_ <

For two full minutes he starred at the mobile in front of him.

**To:** Stiles

> _I could tell her those I know_ <

The next 40 minutes passed tenaciously like bubblegum. Derek walked holes into the kitchen floor. Busied himself with washing dishes (two cups, one plate and a spoon), wiping down the counter and table (three times) and putting together a shopping list.

He was in the middle of an internal debate about stopping to wait when the answer came through.

**From:** Stiles

> _If it's okay with you_ <

Frowning at the text he typed back.

**To:** Stiles

> _wouldn't have offered otherwise_ <

Thankfully he hadn't had to wait long or ask for an explanation.

**From:** Stiles

> _Just because this morning.._ <

Stiles didn't sound mad, but uncertain. Guilt washed over him. He was such an idiot.

**To:** Stiles

> _I'm sorry. Bout the things I've said. Shouldn't have done it._ <

Without pausing he typed on.

**To:** Stiles

> _Or left. I was angry and hurt and stupid._ <

It was wondrous easy to admit it without having to look into Stiles eyes. Without having to say it out loud.

**From:** Stiles

> _I'm sorry too. Should have explained it better_ <

As ridiculous as it was, but it made Derek feel better. But this was Stiles, everything about him was confusing.

**To:** Stiles

> _Tomorrow is pack meeting. Movie & food_<

It was just, how could he know they had pack movie night every Thursday? That was the only reason he kept texting.

**From:** Stiles

> _I cook. Which movie?_ <

Right, Tia. Actually that was a good thing. This way Lydia couldn't suggest 'The Notebook' again, Allison and Kira couldn't team up for some horror movie, Isaac couldn't beg for a historical drama and they hadn't had to suffer through Scotts weird sense of humour. Aiden wasn't allowed to say anything else than what Lydia wanted, Ethan didn't care and nobody asked Peter.

**To:** Stiles

> _Disney?_ <

**From:** Stiles

> _good boy_ <

**To:** Stiles

> _I'm not a dog_ <

Then why was he grinning?

**From:** Stiles

> _Whatever you say sourwolf_ <

Sourwolf... it felt like centuries since Stiles called him that last.

**From:** Stiles

> _The fox and the hound?_ <

**From:** Stiles

> _The princess and the frog?_ <

**To:** Stiles

> _No Lion King_ <

Brother killed brother, son run away, uncle terrorise home. The details might be a bit different but it reminded him to much of his own history. Just without the happy end.

**From:** Stiles

> _Ok. See you tomorrow :)_ <

Almost happy Derek went to town to buy some grocery and a bunch of useless things he wrote on his shopping list earlier. And maybe some DVDs for Tia.

 

 

It was one thing he could cross from his list. Or two. Tia had some toys and Derek wouldn't hate him if he knew the whole story. He didn't hate him for staying with them for so long. Sure he was angry at first, but apparently he thought about it and was okay with it. More or less. Maybe Stiles should tell him about the collar so he could understand.

Nah, to understand Derek needed to hear the full story and he was still not ready to tell everything at once. And the worst thing? At one point or another he would probably have to explain everything again. For his Dad. For the pack. For Jackson. He just hoped that he could tell it to all of them at once.

Anyway he had enough time to freak out about it. His fight with his father was more pressing. Sure they talked. And both of them said sorry – and meant it. But it wasn't everything okay between them. Not yet. They got over the long lying about werewolves & Co., they would get over this, too.

As if on cue the Sheriff came back from work.

“Stiles, Tia. I'm home.” Stiles started to grin like a lunatic at his greeting. It meant that Nate accepted Tia.

“Hey Dad.” He abandoned his place next to Tia, were he had watched her play a video game and pulled his father into a hug. Hugging him felt good, familiar. And every time he did it, he believed a bit more that everything could go back to normal.

“Hey. So what are you two up to?”

“We” Stiles took a step backwards.

“did what you told us to do and went on a tiny big shopping trip.”

“Do I sill have some money left? For, I don't know, food or something.”

“A bit.” But Nate just smiled at him in his unique 'my son is weird but he's mine and I love him' way.

“All right then. Next one.” Nate furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his head with one hand. He took a deep breath and slowly went over to Tia, crouching down in front of her. She studied him with big eyes, reluctant and cautious.

“Hey Tia. I think I owe you an apology. Stiles yelled at me yesterday for saying that you can't stay. I was only worried about him, do you understand that? Of course I want you to stay. So” He took another deep breath.

“I'm really sorry for what I said. Will you allow me to take you two to the cinema on Saturday?” Tia took her time making a decision, searching his eyes. Stiles knew that look. She examined him the same way the day they met, deciding if she could trust him. Or if he would kill her as soon as she crawled out of her save place.

Apparently she wanted to give both Stilinskis a chance, because she finally nodded and smiled shyly.

“Thank you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it. For now. I'll be back soon (hopefully). Love you all :3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm back!!! :) I'm not allowed to sit or walk longer than 10 minutes or do anything beside lying in bed but that won't keep me from writing.

“Hey” Jackson posed on the Stilinski doorstep, trying for all the world to look like the smug asshole everyone knew, but couldn't quite hide his guilty conscience.

“Hey Jacky” Stiles greeted, just because he knew how much it annoyed Jackson.

“Come in.” Without waiting for an reaction Stiles sauntered into the kitchen and continued to cook. Between chopping vegetables and meat he placed a glass and a bottle soda on the table.

“This might be a surprise but I'm cooking dinner right now. You wanna stay?” He pretended he didn't saw the suspicious look Jackson gave the carrots.

“Sorry man, my father set me up to meet some of his old business partners. For whatever good it will bring.” Humming he set the carrots aside and fished for a pan in one of the cupboards.

“Does they know?” Somehow it was clear what he meant. It was something they discovered over the last year. Even if the question had no connection to the last subject they talked about, they always knew what the other wanted.

“Gods, no! And they never will. They think moving to London was the best thing that could happen to me.”

“Well, it was. Look at you, all grown up. You're even less of an ass than usual.”

“Shut it Stilinski.” Both shared a quick smile before Stiles started to stir in the pan.

 

“How's Becca?”

“She's good. Nervous about University. It's to far to drive every day, so we stay on campus except for the weekends.”

“But at least you two aren't alone.”

“Yeah, she'll probably handle it better than I, like always.” Stiles stopped cooking for a moment to stare at Jackson.

“You know, I never expected you to come here in the first place.” And there war the remote again.

“I know, but -”

“No buts! I'm your friend, but they're your pack, your fiancé! Go, tell them and make sure they're safe.”

“And -”

“Jackson.” He moved the pan from the heat, dried his hands an sat down on the other side of the table.

“I'm extremely grateful that you did this for me. You got nothing but trouble out of it and not many would have done it. Especially not for someone they don't like. And I know I'm lucky to have you as a friend now. You're still an douchbag most of the time, but you're a really good friend.” He shushed Jackson with a mild glare before he could even open is mouth. Without doubt wanting to protest against the douchbag comment or the sentimental in it all.

“I'm glad you're here. I really am. Because right now you know me better than the rest of them. But it's time that you go back to your own pack. I don't think they will go after you, but you should tell them anyway.” With that Stiles returned to the stove. Filling the sauce, meat and vegetables in a casserole, topping it with pastry dough and a lot of cheese before shoving it into the oven.

Turning around, he found Jackson still sitting at the table, starring at him with big wondrous eyes.

“Oh for the – why are you still here? I think you have plane to catch. Don't worry about this weird meeting, I'll tell them something about a family emergency or whatever.” Not sooner as he finished talking Jackson pulled him into a hug, nuzzling his neck.

“Hey, don't go all wolfy on me, lizard boy.” Stiles could feel the answering smile on his skin.

“Thanks man” The wolf murmured into his T-shirt.

“Same.” After a few seconds more Stiles shoved him away.

“Now go before one of us starts crying.”

 

 

Nate was still upstairs, working over a few cases in his tiny study, when Jackson Whittemore came by. He thought he saw the kid yesterday but he had no idea that he was back in town, or why he would come to see Stiles of all people. They hated each other. Well, maybe not hated, but they didn't exactly liked one another.

And yeah, maybe it wasn't the best idea after everything that happened recently, but he crept to the door and opened it a gap. Just enough so he could hear what they were talking downstairs. Stiles was cooking. Right now he would eat absolute everything his son placed in front of him without grumbling about it, just glad that he still cared. But from what he'd seen earlier it could be one of his favourites.

More concerning was the way the two boys talked. Like they were friends, like they were in contact all the time. Nate gripped the door frame and grit his teeth. Lies. After everything Stiles was still lying to him. When was the last time he told him the truth?

He wanted to give him time, he understood that Stiles didn't want to tell the whole story right after he could escape. It wasn't what they usually did with a kidnap victim, but this was his son he wanted to protect him.

No matter what really happened in those two years, storming down, confronting Stiles would get him nothing. Only another fight and more lies. He was so sick of those. Why was it that Stiles, that his son, couldn't tell him the truth? Okay, he didn't believe him the first time. But who would hear 'Werewolves' and go yes that's a thing.

But now he knew. Knew about Werewolves and Kanimas and Goblins and Hunters and god knows what else. Stiles lied to protect him. Was it the same reason now? But what was so worse than supernatural creatures? They fought against them all (yeah, okay, not all but a lot) and the always won. It was never easy and looked worse than bad sometimes. Why did Stiles lie to him know?

'You know me better than the rest of them', 'you should tell them'. So Jackson really knew something, they talked to each other.

 

He waited a few more minutes after Jackson was gone before going down. Tia sat on the living room floor in a pile of crayons and filled in her new colouring book.

“I didn't knew Jackson was back.” Leaning against the doorway he watched his son cleaning the kitchen.

“He was just visiting for a few days.”

“Mhmm. Nor did I know that you two were friends.”

“We understand each other better when there's a lot of water between us. Great distances an so.” It was like someone hit Nate with a hammer. He thought he could do this, but obviously he was wrong. And just so damn tired. With a soft groan he sat himself down at the kitchen table, covering his eyes with one hand.

“Why do you still have to lie?” Every movement in the kitchen stopped. Looking up he watched Stiles studying the tiles, kneading a towel between his hands. Nate didn't need to be a werewolf to know that his son felt guilty from his toes right to the tips of his ears.

“That – I – habit?”It wasn't was Nate wanted to hear but at least it was the truth. Probably. It didn't make it better. And he wished Stiles would look him to the eyes. He said nothing, didn't knew what.

“Dad.” Stiles sat down next to him, searching his eyes.

“Jackson was my insurance.” That explained … nothing.

“It took me a year before they let me do it and Jackson had to cast a spell so he couldn't talk to anyone about it. He risked his whole pack to help me. He couldn't say anything. He was my Plan B, okay. Because I knew you would never stop looking for me. And that's why I needed his help. If he didn't hear form me for three weeks he was supposed to -” Stiles stopped and licked his lips. His eyes skirted away only to lock with his again a second later.

“If he didn't hear from me he was supposed to tell you that I'm dead. He should have explained the swear and the deal and tell you that I died.” Nate didn't knew how to breathe. There was no air left in the room. His mind run circles and all he could do was look at his son. It was such a Stiles thing to do.

He might lie to him but he was always worried about him. Always needed to make sure he was okay. He didn't needed to ask where Stiles got this from, he was the same. But a kid like Stiles was hard to protect. You couldn't wrap him in cotton and tell him to stay home. He would set himself on fire and then walk out to buy candy.

Stiles lied to protect him. He lied to protect Stiles. And both knew when the other was lying. They -

“Wait. Jackson cast a spell? I thought only witches could do that.”

“Usually yes. For most of the things you need to have magical ability’s. With some group spells its enough when one part has magic. But there are a few spells everyone can do. It's not much and nobody knows any, but they exist. The swear Jackson had to make is like the big scary brother of the pinkie promise.”

“And you know that why?”

“Because they had an absolute amazing library?”

He wanted to know more. He wanted to make Stiles tell him everything. He wanted to know who took his son. And Sheriff or not, they wouldn't walk out alive for this. They hurt his kid. Whatever happened to them, it was their own fault.

And then there were moments like these, when it sound like they were nice to him, like he was happy. It made his want to strangle them only stronger. But at the same time he wanted to hide and be ashamed. Asking himself why his son was happier with them than back home.

A hand on his arm jolted him out of his dark thoughts.

“Dad, I swear I will tell you everything. Where I was and what I did. But not tonight. Not all at once.” The sheriff mustered him for a moment. Stiles really tried to keep his promises and he wouldn't let this one go. He didn't asked him not to lie anymore. Both of them wouldn't be able to stick to it.

“Will you tell me who they were?”

“Maybe.” Well, it was better than nothing.

 

 

“ _'When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. Scarecrow, still standing patiently in his corner, waiting for her. 'We must go and search for water' she said to him.'Why-'_ ” Stiles stopped when he heard the scratch outside his window and then a soft tap tap on the glass. Like a cat sat Derek outside of it. Only a dark figure against the red sunset light. He opened the window but stayed outside.

“' _Why do you want water?'_ ” He finished scarecrows sentence.

“Can I come in?” Stiles sat with Tia on his bed. Cushions in their backs and the book in front of him.

“Sure. Since when do you ask?” He crawled gracefully through the window, standing awkward next to it.

“I wasn't sure if I'm welcome.” That had never bothered him before. Stiles closed the book and eyed the werewolf carefully. He looked almost guilty. Apparently he really was sorry about their fight.

“You are.” And then he waited. But Derek was his usual silent self.

“Why ware you here?” The older man shrugged, still not saying anything. And Stiles wanted to wait, wanted to ignore him until he opened his mouth first. But he was always bad with silence. The last years changed nothing about that. Biting his lip he managed to keep quiet for a minute longer.

“So, you were just near and thought to hop by?” Another shrug.

Seriously, sometimes he wanted to smash Dereks head against a hard surface until his arms hurt. Like now. He should go back to reading for Tia. He really should but he couldn't. Like always. So he kept sitting on the edge of the bed and starred at Dereks arms. Nothing to complain about that. Derek had nice arms.

“About this morning...” The wolf finally said. But he didn't look like he knew what he wanted to say. Or as if he would continue.

“Yes?”

“You really liked it with them, don't you?” Of course he wanted to talk about that. Stiles rolled his eyes and only barley managed to grab Dereks hand, who muttered a 'sorry' and was already on his way to climb through the window.

“No. Wait. Please.” Only when he nodded Stiles let him go.

“Sit down, okay. I'll explain.” Placing himself on the desk chair Derek looked at him expectant.

“I tried to run away. I never made it far it was really painful.” He laid his hand around his neck, pushing his thump up and down the skin. Remembering. Glancing back he cached Tia listening and quickly hiding behind her book.

“You remember the collar, right? Black with gold writing on it. That were runes. A binding spell. I tried to run away the first night. But as soon as I was out of the window it was like someone set me on fire. It was blazing hot, my muscles cramped so hard I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I got an panic attack on top as well. And every time I passed out and woke up in a bed with someone telling me to stop it already.”

“Why didn't you?”

“The spell was rather vague and I needed to see if I could make it. Didn't work obviously.”

“Then how?”

“When they died, the spell was broken and I could take the collar of.” Both were silent for a moment. Stiles gave him time to process everything.

“But you liked it there?”

“Yes. I didn't liked everything. But they taught me a lot. About myself, too. I still think that what they do is a good thing. I just don't like how they do it. So yes, I liked it there, but that would never keep me from my home, from my pack.” He turned around – at some point he must have stood up to walk his room up and down – and was faced with a heavy frown and bright red eyes.

“They hurt you!”

“Yes, they did.” Stiles could see his fangs and claws growing. So he did the first thing that popped into his mind.

He looped his arms around Dereks neck, hold him tight and buried his face in his shoulder.

“They did. But they will never again. They're death, they can't hurt me.” Even as he felt Dereks arms wrapped around him too, teeth right over his neck and nose in his hairs, he didn't let go.

“Not all of them.”

“No. But now I have you to protect me, right.”

“You smell like Jackson.” Stiles laughed quietly.

“He was here earlier. You don't like it?”

“No. Not pack. Not me.” He hold Stiles a bit tighter before rubbing his cheek at Stiles face, neck and shoulder.

No one of the three heard the soft click of a camera outside his window.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more of Scott next chapter. ^_^ And MAYBE "the big reveal" of who took Stiles. Next chapter or the one after. I don't now yet.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey! Yes, I'm late. It's all Scotts fault. Okay, mostly. He was being stupid. I was staring at a blank page for two days! He was mean to me, so I let him act more like the whiny Beta from Season 1 instead of the badass Alpha from Season 3. His own fault. And any further mention of him will be purley by accident.   
> Next, from thursday on I will be in rehab for a few weeks. But I think I will get enough internet to post new chapters. If they give me enough time to write. We'll see. But I'll do my best :)   
> Okay, uhm, Becca. I'm super nervous about her! Since she's all mine and so on. Please don't hate her... wahh.

Scott poked at his mobile. Head nested on his arms on the coffee table. It was weird. Weird and a good deal confusing. He was Stiles best friend (no matter what Jackson said), but he had no idea how to act around him. He didn't want to talk about the last two years. If he would ask, Stiles would only get angry again. Then again he always played important things close to his chest. For reasons Scott could only guess and would probably never understand. It was simply Stiles. And he wanted to respect that. He did. Especially since he wasn't sure if he wanted to know everything that happened.

Was that a bad thing? Stiles looked likes always, he acted normal, a bit calmer maybe. He hated to admit it, but it seemed like Jackson was right, it was good for Stiles. Whatever _it_ was.

Still, he would never let them take him again. No matter what he had to do for that.

So, he couldn't ask about his time away, but it were two years. How could he act like nothing happened? Stiles had missed so much of their life. Just like they had of his. Plus Stiles was a father now. More or less. Tia might not be his kid, but he'd seen them together. Stiles had adopted her like he had adopted Scott at their first day in school. He would never give her up. Besides back when they were shopping in the mall, he accidentally said 'fuck', he couldn't even remember why, but he had looked at him like he had suggested to give Tia to a zoo or something. And he had the 'Mom voice' already down to the dot. And given that the girl hung on his best friend like a limpet, not that he could blame her after everything, it was highly unlikely that Stiles would come over to play video games.

 

“Does he know about pack movie night?” Came from the kitchen. Seriously, how did his Mom even did this?

“I don't know.” But he grabbed his mobile anyway.

**To: Stiles**

> _Pack meets at Dereks tonight_ <

**To: Stiles**

> _Thursday is movie night_ <

The answer came pretty much right away.

**From: Stiles**

> _I know. Derek told me._ <

He would not get jealous at his co-alpha. Not for doing his job and keeping the pack together.

Again he simply stared at the piece of useless technology in front of him. There were so close once, brothers. But here he sat, only two years later and had no idea what to write his friend. It shouldn't be this hard. Not with Stiles. They used to chat all the time. But they hadn't text each other once since the other was back. He didn't want to feel hurt about it, because they were friends and it probably was a lot to take in for Stiles and maybe he didn't know what to write, neither.

“Making sad puppy eyes at your phone wont help.” Clearly his mother spent to much time with the pack. She wasn't even in the same room!

And she was wrong. He wasn't making puppy dog eyes. Well, maybe a little.

**To: Stiles**

> _So you're coming right?_ <

**From: Stiles**

> _Sure we are. Derek promised Disney._ <

And again.

**To: Stiles**

> _You two hang out a lot lately_ <

**From: Stiles**

> _Yeah, he's the only born werewolf. Who else could teach Tia?_ <

Okay, he might have a point, but … But what exactly?

**From: Stiles**

> _Besides when you're all gone & I'm in school I need someone to babysit her._<

Yes, alright, definitely a point. And a opportunity.

**To: Stiles**

> _Maybe you could test drive that? And we could hang out a bit_ <

**From: Stiles**

> _Sounds like a plan._ <

Yep, and a good one, too.

 

 

Paperwork was stupid. He really liked research, digging deep, pull mystery’s apart, questioning everything until he stood there with the truth in his hands and afterwards organizing all myths and facts in systems that made only sense to him.

But actually filling out official papers? Naff like hell. Mostly because they were stupid in five different ways. Plus X. Seriously, he just wanted to go back to school and adopt a six year old child. At the moment both seemed rather unlikely, though.

So when his mobile started to play 'Miss Jackson' he welcomed the distraction with open arms. With a broad smile he picked up.

“Miss Jackson Miss Jackson. Are you nasty?” A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line.

“Who ever told you that you're funny lied, Stilinski.”

“You did, sweetheart. So, what's up?”

“I probably regret it, but do you have any plans for tonight?” Stiles made his desk chair spin, watching Tias eyes go wide and then silently demanding to spin with him. The phone clamped between his ear and shoulder he pulled her up and started to spin them around.

“Didn't I told you to fly home?”

“That was the plan, but -” After a short rustling and a muffled 'ouch' another voice appeared on the line.

“Hey Stiles!” The female yelled happily.

“Becca?!”

“The one and only.”

“Oh my god! You're in Beacon Hills? What are you doing in Beacon Hills?”

“Chasing down my mate. First he looked like a sad abandoned puppy for weeks and then he called grumbling he's about to kill you. So I thought fuck it, I'm flying to Cali. Apart from that, I'm here for like two hours and I haven't seen the sun for that long in weeks.”

“You're amazing, you know that. But I fear it's bad timing.”

“Yeah, Jackson mentioned something like that. Dangerous. Powerful. Yada Yada Yada. And then I have to deal with him moping around for ages because he couldn't help you. No way.” He laughed. Becca was always awesome. If Jackson ever broke up with her, he would beat the crap out of him. The other way around probably, too.

“You sure you want to marry Whittemore? I have a gorgeous daughter.”

“Really?! Aww! Whatever you're doing tonight, Jackson and I are coming, too.”

“Disney movies with the pack at Dereks.”

“Great. We'll be there. When?”

“Around six. You wanna come over before?”

“Sorry, honey. Jackson is giving me a tour through his hotel room.”

“Aaand that's my clue. See you later.” Behind Beccas hyper 'See yah!' he could hear a week 'bye' from Jackson. Tonight would be so much fun.

He couldn't wait to see the faces of the others. Which lead inevitably to a internal debate how Becca and Lydia would react to each other. There were only two possible outcomes, really. Either they would find a way to rip each others throats out without breaking a nail. Or they would successfully plan how to take over the world. One way or another it wouldn't take more than an hour to know. And truth to be told, he wasn't sure what he feared more.

But, the promise of chaos beside, he was thrilled that Becca was here. Sometimes when he and Jackson skyped she was there too. That's how they 'met'. Of course he knew about her before. So whenever she was around, she would simply place herself in Jacksons lap and chat with him like they knew each other for years. Jackson could deny it as much as he wanted to, but they all knew that he was glad that Stiles and Becca liked another.

Yes, it would definitely be a fun night.

 

 

At exactly 6 pm Stiles was sitting on Dereks couch, Tiana on his lap and grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Jackson is coming over, too. I hope that's okay.” The boy called into the kitchen. He was glad nobody could see his face. It was not okay. Not for him. But apparently everybody else thought it was great. He couldn't explain why he didn't liked it anyway. Jackson wasn't pack and he would leave soon. But that wasn't the reason. That much he knew.

His wolf snarled at him, thinking it was quite obvious. Derek didn't listen, didn't thought about it. Especially not with a house full of werewolves. So he placed some plates and glasses on a tray and carried it over to the pack.

“Dinner is almost ready.”

 

Stiles came over earlier, a huge paper bag in his arms. Behind him a extremely proud Tia carried a bowl bigger that her head.

“I said I cook, remember?” He was already engaged in scattering the food over his counter. Glasses with a red sauce, a scaring amount of cheese, eggs, ham, turkey, pepper, chillies, various vegetables, fish – the bag had to be bigger on the inside.

“How many baking sheets do you have?”

“Uh, two?” He was helping Tia onto one of the bar stools, wondering when it became normal for Stiles to waltz into his house, to whirl through his kitchen as if he did it everyday.

“Yeah, not enough. Can you get the others from my Jeep?” Dumbstruck he did as Stiles asked.

Afterwards he sat next to Tia and watched him make a mess out of his kitchen.

“It's going to be home made pizza in case you didn't guessed it already. Tia helped me with the dough. Right, baby girl?” The werewolf in question started to beam like a spotlight.

 

An hour later the whole pack was gathered in his living room, talking loudly, laughing. The smell from the oven, melted cheese, tomatoes and meet, mixed with warmed and happiness. It felt almost like family. Allison and Kira were teasing Isaac, Scott and the twins discussed motorcycles, Lydia complained that Stiles still hadn't any fashion sense and when he would go shopping with her.

When Jackson came in everyone stopped short, except for Stiles who wasn't even trying to hide his snickering.

“Hey guys, that's Becca.” The ex lizard got no response.

Becca was … tiny. Black short and tousled hair, bright green eyes and a snub nose. She looked more like a pixie than a werewolf. After her introduction she bowed to Derek and Scott.

“I'm sorry for invading into your territory without enquiry. If you want me to leave, I will.” Allowing Jackson to stay but force her to leave? Probably not a good move. Or fair. And maybe her fiancé would be more distracted from Stiles.

“It's okay on my side. Scott?”

“Of course you can stay. Have a seat.”

“Awesome.” With that she practically bounced to the couch to hug Stiles.

“Hey pretty boy.”

“Good to see you, pixie.” Or maybe it was a bad idea. But Derek didn't say anything and went to get the pizza out of the oven. He took two sheets, leaving the rest inside, cutting the pizza in squares and carried everything over.

Becca and Lydia were mustering each other. Everyone else tried not to look as if they were waiting for a showdown.

“Stiles make yourself useful and turn the movie on.” He grumbled, fighting to get both sheets on the coffee table.

“I made food!” But he stood up anyway. Instead of the usual Disney intro another song filled the air.

“ _Ohhhh isn't it amazing? It's my favourite part because.. you'll see here's where she meets Prince Charming but she w-_ ” Stiles flailed to get his mobile out, a smile on his face, but his eyes concerned.

“Ma chérie Belle!” Considering the stunned faces around him Derek wasn't the only one surprised. Because obviously someone had to be on the other end of the line, but he could hear absolute nothing.

“Already? - You sure? - Fuck! Plans? - Okay. Okay, that's good. - No! Don't! - Can't you just once listen to me? - Yeah, and I always win – Ha! Sure. - Hey, thank you. Don't make anything stupid.” He didn't turn around right away, one hand on his forehead, shoulders tense.

“We need the rest of the pack to come over. My Dad. Chris. Peter, if he's around.”

“Chris is not really part of the -”

“Just do it!” He snapped at Scott, punching at the touch screen of his mobile. For a second Scotts eyes flashed red, but he didn't said anything else.

 

Allison already tried to reach her Dad and Peter walked in before Derek could dial his number.

“I hear there's trouble?”

“Dad, I need you to come to Dereks house. - No, right now! They're here.” He hung up a few seconds after. Since Derek still couldn't hear anything from Stiles phone he could only guess that the Sheriff would come over. Chris hadn't sound enthusiastic but agreed anyway.

“Do you want us to go?” Jackson asked concerned.

“No, you can stay. It affects you too.”

Stiles walked the room up and down, filling it with anxiety and finally stopped next to Derek.

“Oh my god. I'm not ready for this.” Looking at him with pleading eyes. He felt strangely happy that the boy came to him instead of going to Scott or Jackson. It didn't meant that he had any idea what to do.

He grabbed his neck, squeezing once.

“Hey, it's going to be okay. Don't worry.”

“I never wanted to tell anyone.” He leaned forward, acting purely on instinct, until their foreheads were touching.

“I know. It's fine. You will still be pack.” The boy tensed at his last words, but relaxed when Derek squeezed his neck again. Reluctantly he took a step back, leaving his hand where it was.

“Is Isabelle alright?”

“Yeah, at the moment. But I fear she's going to help me.” With a jerk Stiles turned away, crouching down.

“Tia.” She instantly run into is his open arms, clutching at his shirt.

“I'm sorry, baby girl. They won't hurt you. I promise!” Her eyes were big and shiny when she tapped on his chest.

“Of course not. I'm awesome!” But he didn't promise.

Luckily Chris and Nate decided that it was a good time to walk in.

 

It was astounding how fast everyone was sitting and silent. He even had managed to place Stiles between himself and Tia. Or maybe it was Stiles work. He didn't exactly care.

“We've gathered here today, to ...” Count on Peter to be inappropriate. But at least it got things moving.

Stiles took a deep breath, running his hand trough his hair.

“How do I even start?”

“At the beginning?” His father suggested.

“To long, to complicated. You need to know who's after me. Or first they go after the pack to make me come back.” Derek could feel how he tensed, trying to stay still.

“Why are they coming after you again?”

“They're not finished with me. First things first.” He added when Nate opened his mouth again. Derek scooted a tiny bit, pressing his leg against Stiles. Just trying to give him some sort of comfort, to let him know he was here.

“The Twins took me.” Several heads snapped around to Aiden and Ethan.

“Not them. _The Twins_. They brought me to _Butcher_. We were trained by _Bloodhound_ and _Smoker_.” All around were just confused faces. But you could see the second Chris and Peter seemed to understand, as if whatever Stiles just said made any sense.

They looked at him with a mix of horror and fascination.

“You're a knight.” Peter stated at the same moment as Chris said 'You're _little Red_ '.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know, I'm a [fill in insult of choise] for stopping now. :3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go. First days in Rehab over - everyone is adorable. I guess it's because everyone gets pain meds. And 80% is over 60 but who cares.   
> Have another chapter, in which absolute nothing happens. Well, almost nothing. ^^

No no no, wait a second. His son was what? What the hell was a Knight? Apart from a medieval sword wilding minion. And they didn't exist anymore. No King Arthur and the round table of kidnappers.

“What the hell is a Knight?” At least he wasn't the only one confused. He glanced at Derek, who sat suspiciously close to his son. And to his son, who was suspiciously okay with it. Urgh, he would investigate _that_ on another day. Today he had to handle the knighthood of his son. And by the looks of Peter and Chris it wasn't necessarily a good thing.

“Knights are Hunters.” Peter offered.

“You're a Hunter?!” Except for the two in the loop, everyone was a tiny bit shocked.

“But they're special.” That did nothing to reduce the confusion. Nate needed answers. So did the pack. And if those special Hunters really were in town and after his kid, they needed them fast.

He stood up, easily falling into his 'don't mess with me, I'm the Sheriff' role.

“So, here's what we gonna do. One question at a time, you answer-” He pointed at Stiles.

“directly, no talking around and everyone else is quiet.” Nods and murmured approval followed.

“Good.” He turned to his son.

“What is a Knight?” Stiles answered with a deep sigh. You could practically hear him thinking in at last one million directions at once. But there was no escaping. Not this time.

The kid seemed to realise that as well and squared his shoulders.

“Like Peter said, Knights are Hunters. Special Hunters. They're like … you don't mess with a Knight. They are not a family, they're an organisation. And they're not specialised like the Argents or Paxsons. They go after everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“They have a code. Pretty much like every older Hunter family. To protect the innocent. They go after everything supernatural and human. Or at least those who knows.”

“Codes can be broken.” Peter let his mask slip enough to sound bitter. Guilt appeared shortly in Chris and Allisons eyes, Derek looked just sad, while Stiles shruged.

“Sure. But then we go after the Knight who broke it.”

“But why you? You didn't do anything, right? Why are they after you?” Nate could see that his sons willingness to answer questions was dwindling. He did it because he had to, but they couldn't keep this up much longer.

“You don't decide to become a Knight. They choose you. And they don't like it when someone bails out. … And maybe they think that I killed _The Twins_.” That was new. It changed the point of departure. Hunters or not, before he could have gone after them for deprivation of liberty. But if Stiles was a murder suspect? Not good.

“Did you?” Surprisingly it was Allison who asked. Nate often forgot how direct she could be.

“No. Not really.”

“Not I didn't kill them. I didn't lead them into a trap or anything. Yes, without me the wouldn't have gone there. But it could have been me who died just as easily. Even more so. They were better trained. So, no, it wasn't my fault. But the others know I was with them, I left my weapons there, I disappeared, I was the only one who got out alive”.

They all knew the risks of being on one side of the supernatural. Maybe they were higher in Beacon Hills, since every Fairy Tail creature walked straight out of their books and into town with delusions of grandeur. He was always worried about Stiles – he was his kid – and more so since he know he run with wolves.

But hearing this? Shrugging it off like it was nothing. Yeah, I could have been ripped apart by werewolves, so what? He was proud of Stiles. Incredible proud of the man he already was. Just – sometimes he wished the boy were still a little kid.

 

A boy of five years, huge brown eyes, smiling even in his sleep. Asking questions that made everyone blush and stutter, systemically destroying the house with his weird experiments. Filling the tub with two or three bottles of cola and throwing in a whole package of mentos. Building spaceships out of everything he could carry and super glue. Somehow taking the TV apart to see what was inside.

And every single time, no matter what Stiles did (including the time he dumped a entire flagon of unholy expensive perfume over the garden flowers because they didn't smell pretty) his wife was lying on the floor, crying and howling with laughter. It was probably her who gave him half of his ideas. And now he was running with wolves, turning into a warrior or one of his beloved superheroes.

 

He came back from memory lane just in time to see Derek carefully nudging his sons knee with his own, waiting for him to turn around before speaking.

“You know them. What are they going to do?”

“Freaking me out for a while. Messages, Pictures, you having almost accidents. Then they give me choice. Come with us and nobody will get hurt. They give me a week. If I don't come, they attack. It's a waiting game and they just started it.”

 

 

The grown ups left and the actual pack were sitting awkwardly in the living room. Stiles could practically feel the questions forming in their heads. But nobody said anything and he wouldn't prompt it. He wanted to do something. Anything but sitting around. Go for a run, preferable alone. He doubted they would let him.

Slowly he stood up, walking out of the room, knowing that everyone’s eyes were on him. He felt restless, to much unused energy bubbling in him. He wanted to run or do … other stuff. But they wouldn't let him go alone and alone was what he needed right now. Besides he didn't wanted to leave Tia alone with the whole pack. She didn't knew them well enough to be even slightly comfortable with them. She just needed a bit more time.

And even though he wanted space, he didn't really wanted to go. Stiles wanted his friends gone, cuddle with Tia and Derek on the couch and watch Oliver & Company. The thought was comforting and unsettling at the same time.

He glanced at himself in the mirror before drawing out his mobile.

**To: Sourwolf**

> _Can we stay tonight?_ <

While he waited, Stiles washed his face, water ice cold. This way he had at least a reason to hide in the bathroom.

**From: Sourwolf**

> _Of course_ <

He was glad. Glad that he could stay and glad that he turned of the sound after Belle called. No need for everyone to know he and Derek texted each other while being in the same house.

Stiles walked back but didn't sat down.

“Okay guys, why don't you heat the pizza again. Or eat it cold. Whatever you like. And watch a movie.” Locking his eyes with Tia he held out his hand.

She detached herself from Derek – his heart did not do a joyful jump at their closeness, thank you – and ran, just like earlier, over to him, let him pick her up. Giving the pack a short wave, he went upstairs. They could hear rustling, movement and then Lydias sharp 'Let them!'. Yeah, she was still utterly amazing. And terrifying as hell.

 

Stiles knew that the pack had their own rooms but since he didn't knew if he had one too and which one it was and he really, really didn't want to sleep in a bed in which one of the twins had sex in, he directly walked into Dereks room.

Uhm, yeah. This thing wasn't exactly planed, so – no sleep clothes for both of them. He had some spare clothes in is Jeep, just in case an orange juice disaster or something like that happened. But tonight they had to manage so.

Stiles helped her out of her jeans and the grey shirt with a Darth Vader princess on it, both ignoring that she actually didn't needed any help. He shrugged out of his T-Shirt and pulled it over her head before walking over to Dereks wardrobe and stealing one of his black shirts.

Snuggling under the covers he slung one arm around her when she pillowed her head on his chest. He held his right hand in front of them, palm upwards.

“In the middle of the mountains, in a deep old forest, there once lived a Troll. His eyes were as grey as the stones, his skin green like the moss growing on them and he was as tall as a tree.” Right over his palm appeared an image of the troll, tall as the tree next to him, green and with big grey eyes.

 

It was a trick Stiles learned pretty quickly. True, the Knights weren't a family, but that didn't meant they hadn't had any family. And looking after a bunch of kids on a sugar rush? You had to come up with something.

He found a spell to create illusions. Huge ones. But holding them up, showing a complete story with them was exhausting. And not exactly subtle. So he started to experimenting until he could conjure illusions from the size of a house or so small they fit in his hand.

Lets just say the kids loved it. Plus it was incredible handy – ha! – when it came to projecting maps or pictures of suspects.

 

“He was so tall and strong, he could destroy a house with his bare hands. The Troll had build himself a roomy home. A cave smashed in the mountain and a garden in front of it. Because as ugly and fearful as he looked, the Troll had the prettiest roses and the biggest pumpkins in the whole forest.” The image changed into a cave surrounded by beautiful roses in crisp white and blood red. On the left and right side were growing the pumpkins. Some of them still small and some big as the stone next to it.

“But one day, when he came from the shower under the waterfall,” Tias shoulders shook with silent laughter when she saw the Troll standing in the water with a pink bathing cap on his head and scrubbing his back with a young fir tree.

“half of his pretty roses were gone. And he cried out loud. So loud that every bird flew away, and you could hear it all the way down the mountain were a tiny village was. His pretty, pretty roses!”

 

 

Walking into his bedroom Derek thought his heart might stop. Scratch that. It did stopped.

Earlier the pack listened to Lydia, letting Scott stop short in his tracks. Considering the small smiles on his and Isaacs face only moments later, they eavesdropped to Stiles story just like Derek did. And even the twins grinned once or twice. After the movie was over – Derek had no idea what they were watching, to occupied listening to Stiles upstairs and then to confused since he missed the first half of it – everyone went home.

Leaving him to a quiet house with two steady heartbeats in it. But knowing that they were upstairs and sleeping didn't prepared him for what he found.

They were curled up in his bed, Stiles wearing one of his shirts. Scent mixing, melting together with his. As well as … lightning. He knew that thunderstorms smelled different than rain. But how often do you smell a lightning on it's own? And yet he knew what it was.

And maybe – maybe – his wolf was right. Maybe the reason behind his weird thoughts, feeling was obvious. Ignoring the smug 'I told you so' grin from it, he made a step towards the bed. Stopping the second Stiles shifted, turning his head. If he would wake up, he would look directly at Derek.

Ranking his eyes over the boys soft features. Relaxed, a dark fan of eyelashes, plump pale lips. A small hand in his shirt. And like the Trolls crys his thoughts echoes in his head, getting louder and louder until it was all he could hear – mine!

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a Day late. Could be worse. Hope you're not to mad at me ;)   
> Anyway, what I wanted to ask for a while now - what do you think? To many POV changes?

Even though Isaac spent most of his nights with Allison, he liked to spent time with Derek as well. So when he came home the morning after the big 'what the hell is a Stiles' reveal pack night, he found said Stiles in the kitchen. In boxer shorts and one of Dereks shirts. Both their scents, as well as Tias, where mixed together as one. And it smelled so intense like family, that he wanted to flop on the floor and start crying until his Mommy (or in this case Stiles) cuddled and comforted him and promised to make him some pancakes.

Isaac could barley remember the feeling of family and till now he had no idea how much he actually missed it. He must have made some noise, because the boy whirled around, eyes bis and concerned as soon as he saw him.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?” Already standing in front of him, a hand on his arm and Isaac could only shake his head.

“Do you had a fight with Allison?”

“What? No! No. Just … I'm glad you're back.” Stiles gave him a funny look before pulling him into a hug. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and upper back.

“I'm glad, too, pup. Come on, lets get us a cup of coffee and then I make pancakes, okay?” Now he was really on the edge of crying. He nodded and buried his face in Stiles neck, taking a few deep breaths.

 

Derek came down when the first pancakes were ready, a more asleep than awake Tia in his arms. Both blinking somewhat stupidly in the kitchen.

“Morning you two!” Stiles chirped from the stove before walking over. One hand gripping the back of Dereks neck, while he nuzzled Tias cheek. If pressed Isaac was sure he could hear the butterfly’s in his alphas stomach. The scent of family filling the room again.

He wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself if he had tried.

“Mom, can I get more pancakes?” Derek looked like he would faint any second, Stiles laughed, swatting his locks.

“Don't call me Mom.” But he got more anyway. Just like Derek – who was almost back to his usual self, only a small smile tucking at the corner of his mouth – and Tia. The girl was grinning happily as she munched her breakfast, feed swinging in the air.

“Lydia is almost here. In case you wanted to put on some pants.” He mumbled trough a mouthful, reaching for his coffee at the same time.

“Mhm, wouldn't be the worst she saw me in.” But he patted everyone on the head and dashed upstairs. Yeah, Isaac would stop calling him Mom when he stopped acting like one. Not that he minded it. He rather liked it.

 

Only two or three minutes later Lydia flounced in, scanning the room.

“Where's Momma-bear?”

“What is it with you and calling me Mom this morning?” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, walking over to the counter, grabbing a new cup for her, oblivious to the slightly shocked stares he got from everyone else.

“Pancakes?”

“No, thank you.”

“I make them for my Dad, too. They're healthy.”

“Oh, fine.” Flicking her hair, she went over and stared at Derek until he offered her his place.

“Or, you know, we could take this over to the breakfast nook. Then everyone could sit down.” Lydia huffed, smoothed her shiny green dress and was the first one to sit down again. Followed by Tia, who jumped of the bar stool and run over, growling at Isaac when he tried to sit down next to her. Obviously she wanted to sit between Derek and Stiles and Isaac wondered if she knew what was going on between them or if she just liked them best.

“Well, yesterday was informative.” Lydia started, taking a sip from her coffee, which seemed to have materialised out of thin air in front of her.

“But of course you gave us only a glimpse of what is really going on. So, why did Chris called you _Little Red_?” Isaac didn't knew that one could sigh with his eyes, but apparently Stiles could. He didn't make a sound, but it was loud and clear to hear.

“Because that's my name as a Knight. My title of you so will.”

“And why _Little Red_?”

“It fits, doesn't it? _The Twins_ were, well, twins. There is no one the _Bloodhound_ won't find. I wear red and run with wolves.”

“But you were still in training, right? Why do you need a name?”

“It's called praxis. As soon as you go out you need a name. Doesn't matter if you're new or not. Chris doesn't got it from our newsletter.”

“So you were out? Hunting with the Knights?” Derek didn't sound to happy about it and Isaac could understand.

First of all it was dangerous. The alpha was always worried that something might happen to the human pack members. Especially Stiles. And then -they were Hunters. Hunters they didn't know. God knew what lies they've told him over the years. True, he was smart, but everyone could be manipulated and brainwashed. He didn't believed it, refused to think Stiles was the enemy. But there was this tiny little voice in the back of his head, only a whisper. It could be a trap. And maybe Derek could her it, too.

 

 

After Breakfast Stiles got some spare clothes out of his Jeep. Originally he had stored them there in case of an stain attack. He started to ruin his shirts when he was – oh, who was he kidding. He always had and hadn't quite grown out of it. And since Scott got bitten he almost regularly run around, covered in blood and goo and god knew what else. Who likes that? Besides, it was hard to hide if your father shouldn't find out about it.

So, ever since he had a car, he had some spare clothes in it, which recently got company by some of Tias. Maybe he should get some toothbrushes as well. Just in case they crash somewhere again.

After they changed, the old clothes tugged under one arm, he waved goodbye and ushered Tia towards the car, ignoring Dereks glance. > _Be careful_ < it seemed to say. > _Let me come with you._ <

 

He didn't drove them home, but back to the preserve a bit further down, stopping in a parking lot popular by hikers.

“Wanna run a bit?” They hadn't done that since they come to town. Tia was a little kid and a werewolf on top, he could only keep her from running for so long. And himself, too. Doing magic calmed him down enough, but after having to run every day for two years, he missed it.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to get out of the car, couldn't shake off the way Derek hat looked at him.

**To: Derek**

> _We're going for a run before heading home._ <

**From: Derek**

> _Thanks_ <

Came only moments later. There was no reason why it made him that happy.

“Come on, let's play. But remember, as soon as you hear someone else come to me.” If she had a tail, Stiles was sure she would wiggle it.

 

Both run free, staggered like rabbits, sometimes playing tag for a few minutes, climbing trees, jumping over boulders and roots. But they made sure to stay in each others sight. While they were running, he couldn't help but think back to this morning.

His explanation might ave been a bit vague but non the less true. Yes, he had been out with the Knights, but that didn't mean they were going for a kill every time. It could just as well mean checking on someone, giving a reminder, observation, research. And sometimes it was simply to train with someone else. Which of course meant he had done all of it, the hunting included.

The whole thing was just fucked up. Every time he started to think about it, there was more he didn't understood. Why was he so reluctant to tell the pack, or anyone really, about the Knights? They didn't ask where he lived those past years, they didn't ask for names. And yet, somehow it was incredible hard to bring himself to explain anything at all. Maybe it was a spell, some rune to make sure he kept the secret. Or maybe it was simply Stockholm syndrome. Or both. Who knew. He certainly not.

Why couldn't he, despite everything he already told the pack, told Derek, why couldn't he admit that he had magic? They knew he was a spark before. But with the right fuel a spark is all you need to start a fire. And that was what he was now. A wildfire running trough his veins. He wasn't a sorcerer or a warlock. You could probably still call him a spark, just and incredible strong one.

But the thing that really set him off was, that he was scared. Even though here was no reason to. The Knights were a big group of arseholes and by talking to half of them you could think they were some brute idiots, but none of them were stupid. Quite the contrary. And while it might have looked like he had something to do with the death of Fred and George, they would listen to him, except nothing but the truth. And they wouldn't kill him for surviving. They wouldn't take Tia away. There was no reason to be scared. But he was.

 

Shaking his head he tried to think of something else. Something that wasn't tall, dark and listened to the name Derek Hale. Which shouldn't be as difficult as it was.

Waking up next to the man for whom he had given up his long-term crush on Lydia, almost the second he first saw him? Aaand they somehow managed to tangle their legs, Dereks arm thrown over his waist. Yeah, he was so fucking glad he had learned to control his heartbeat.

He hadn't had any chance before, but now that he was a Hunter? He'd rather got his Mom back. But if Stiles was good at one thing, it was ignoring stuff. Like this thing his stomach did every time Derek smiled at him. No, he didn't had time for a crush, he needed to go back to school, he needed to keep Tiana and he needed to learn to be a good Dad (substitute) for her. Well, that and more.

 

Busy bemoaning his never quiet live, he almost the way his spark tingled at the back of his neck. The moment he whirled around, planning on scanning the trees behind him, the bullet hit his right shoulder, making him stumble backwards.

“HIDE!” Just one word, but he knew Tia would vanish. She was pretty good at hiding.

He created a shield around him, nothing particular strong, but enough to keep any further bullets out. Mobile pressed against his ear, something hit the barrier, forcing it to frizzle and creak, flashing white.

“Stiles?”

“Hey Derek. You remember that I said they're just going to scare me off? Guess I was wrong.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three more days and then I'm back home!!! Hooray!!!! But truth to be told, I'm going to miss the pool (◠△◠) 
> 
> It's a lot of Dereks POV this time. Not sure what to think about this chapter. Meh. But I usually think 'wtf' about the stuff I write, so I guess it's okay.

He was out of the house before Isaac could do so much as open his mouth. Stiles probably didn't know it, but there was pain in his voice. No panic or grief though, so Tia was okay. Hopefully. He had no idea where they were but he needed to find them. Fast.

Derek took a deep breath, scenting the air, trying to find the trail they both left. They wanted to run before heading home. Stiles had to leave the car somewhere – there were some parking lots down the road. Mostly for hikers. Because hiking in Beacon Hills was such a good idea.

He changed directions and headed towards said parking lots, eyes blazing red. It was all he could do to not directly fall into his alpha form. Someone hurt what was his.

About five minutes in he could smell them, happy, content. And then the tang of blood hit him. The scent of someone else was in the air. Two someones. But they were already gone. Moments later he saw Stiles. He was on his knees, a hand pressed onto his right shoulder to stop himself from bleeding out, eyes completely white.

“Stiles” voice breaking.

“Are they gone?”

“Yeah, they're gone.” Derek barley managed not to flinch. He was so focused on finding Stiles that he not even noticed Isaac following him.

There was a quiet _wooosh_ and the boys eyes returned into honey brown. With two large steps he was in front of him, prying the hand away to look at the wound. Snarling at him when hie pulled back.

“Geh, I'm fine. Just need someone to get the bullet out.” He got swatted away the second time when he tried to help him stand. Why wasn't he allowed to help? His wolf whined low, wanting to apologise for whatever he did wrong and lick the wound until it was better.

“Tia.” Stiles voice was loud, without a hint of pain.

“It's all right, baby girl. You can come out.” Sure enough, after a distant rustle, Tia was gripping the hem of his shirt, looking up with worried eyes, while think tears run down her cheeks.

“Oh honey, it's okay. I'm fine. Well, almost. It's nothing bad, okay. Don't worry.” He smiled at her, patting her hair. But the colour was drowning out of his face and he was swinging slightly.

With a deep growl Derek picked Tia up, thrusting her at Isaac and threw Stiles arm over his shoulder. He was not okay. He was hurt. Shot. Bleeding.

“Hospital.” Was all he could grind out. And growled again, a warning this time, when Stiles tried to shove him away for the third time today.

“No hospital. They just complicate things.”

“Stiles. You where shot. You're bleeding all over the forest.”

“I just need someone to get the bullet out. And maybe clean it a bit.” Stiles made a wobbly step away from him. Which was obviously enough to let him lose his patience.

“Fuck! Derek. Let me down!” But he didn't. He simply had picked him up, bridal style since he didn't want more blood flowing to the hole in his shoulder, already running towards Stiles car.

“Keys” That Stiles gave them to him without much of a fight was enough for Derek to know he was right. He put him down on the passenger seat, while Isaac and Tia climbed in the back.

“I know you want to be strong for her,” He didn't looked at Stiles, only the road, wanting to reach Deaton as soon and safe as possible.

“but taking help when offered isn't a sign of weakness.”

“Woah, since when are you a well of wisdom?” There was no heat behind his words, he sounded just tired and that worried Derek the most.

“I learned that from you actually.” A soft hum was all he got in response.

 

He carried Stiles through the back door, lying him on the examination table. Deaton walked in as if he knew that they were coming all along.

“Why didn't you bring him to a hospital?”

“He didn't want to.” Isaac answered for him, still holding the girl his his arms.

“I see.” Deaton murmured like it made perfect sense.

“Can you take his shirt of.” He could, but it seemed like a bad idea to move him, besides 'take his shirt of' in situations like these meant usually 'get your claws out and rid of this rag so I can work'. Which was exactly what Derek did.

“Dude, I liked this shirt.”

“Shut up.” He grumbled back, hiding the wave of relieve to see Stiles awake. More or less. Only to have the ability to breathe knock right out of him the moment the shirt came of.

Stiles upper body was covered in scars. Some of them he knew – the parallel strips across his chest from the alpha pack. The gash in his left side form the nogitsune. But there were more.

One that looked suspiciously like a burn mark right over his heart. Two thin lines that followed the curve of his collar bones. A messy one on his right upper arm like someone wrapped netting wire around it. There were a few smaller ones and – Derek knew his heart was beating insanely fast, but he found Stiles tattoo: A tiny, black triskele on his left hip.

Taking a step back so Deaton could do his work, only he couldn't move his eyes from the ink swirls. Isaac thankfully said nothing. Not about the scars, not about the tattoo. Not about his behaviour around Stiles. Although he wasn't exactly subtle with his new discovered feelings for the boy. At least not for another werewolf. He hadn't had time to proceed the whole thing. After, it would be easier to control his heartbeat and to keep his emotions from oozing out.

A metallic _kling_ told him that the bullet was finally out.

“It hit nothing important, but the bone might have a slight crack. You shouldn't move your arm for -” Again Stiles eyes were bright white and the wound started to close itself. It wasn't as fast as werewolf healing, but still way to fast to be anything but supernatural.

After a few minutes, maybe five or six, the only thing left was a small, round and angry red scar.

“Told ya. I just needed someone to get it out. And maybe someone to get me into a bed? This is f- exhausting.”

“You're healed!” Isaac stated, awed. Of course Deaton was neither awed nor anything else, dismissing Isaac with a glance that clearly said he was stupid for thinking Stiles couldn't do the thing he just did.

“Yep. Arm's goin' to be sore for awhile. Ev'ry thin's perfectly fine.” His eyes felt shut almost immediately after he opened them again. Deaton nodded, patted Isaac on the shoulder once and left the room.

After watching Stiles sleep on the table for a while (and ignoring the soft whine form Tia and Isaac), Derek picked him up again. He didn't explain why he felt it necessary to let the boy recover in his bed and his beta didn't asked.

 

 

He woke up the second time in a row in Dereks bed. It was becoming a habit. His shoulder hurt, but thankfully not overly so. The sun hung low, wandering enough to fill the room only with shadows. It had to be late afternoon. Stiles was alone in bed and he couldn't decide if that was good or bad. It was probably bad because he wished he wasn't. No, it was good then … what?

With a low groan he stood up, only to to start wondering again. He was wearing sweatpants and a soft, old T-shirt. Non of them were his. So … Dereks. Huh.

Wandering downstairs, again with sleep tousled hair and barefoot, he found the complete pack, plus his Dad in the living room, watching Peter Pan. Or they had watched it and were now busy starring at him. Awesome.

“Hey Baby Girl.” He picked Tia up, who had jumped out of Dereks lap as soon as he left the last step. She was getting to old for this sort of thing (or maybe to big since you were never to old for cuddle carrying, and hey, as long as he could lift her …).

Walking over he could practically feel the humming need to cuddle and nuzzle him, dragging him into a puppy pile and make sure he was okay. But he flopped down next to his Dad, letting go of a deep sigh.

“Go on.” He told them, biting down a laugh when the pack looked at each other uncertain.

“You got shot!” Stiles winced. He knew his Dad would probably panic about that.

“Yeah, but I'm fine. I'm good. See.” Placing Nates hand over the scar on his shoulder.

“I learned a pretty cool trick.” They didn't seemed to be as relieved as he hoped they would be.

“You're a witch?!” Scott looked somewhat hurt for not telling them earlier.

“No, I'm a spark.”

“But you have magic.” Kira insisted.

“Look, not every were is a wolf and not everyone with magic is a witch. I'm still a spark.”

“Although a really powerful one.” Of course Peter was lurking somewhere in the shadows, the old creeper. It was teasing enough for Lydia to pipe in.

“How powerful?” Well, Peter felt the need to share this bit of information about him, he could explain as well. He just waved his hand in a universal 'go on' gesture and leant back. Peter rolled his eyes but started anyway.

“I'm not sure how strong he is. But there are very few who can heal themselves. And even less that can do it so fast.” And now everyone was looking expectantly at him. Hooray.

“From the Knights I know – and I don't know all of them, not even all who live in the U.S. - there are only two stronger than I. But right now nobody is sure if _Nabu*_ is still alive. So maybe just one. And of course not every Spark is a Knight. Not even every Knight is a Spark. Most of them are, though. At least here.” He got a few puzzled looks before Peter smirked.

“So you have no idea.”

“Nope. Compared to every living werewolf how strong are you?” He could take his point further, but decided against it. Pick your battles and all that. Besides everyone else seemed to be satisfied with his answer.

“You said they were only going to scare you off – no harm done.” Okay, his Dad hat the right to keep hanging at his near death. Or whatever it was. Technically he wasn't near death, not even near the worst injury he had in the last two years. Anyway.

“That's how they usually do it. But if they're convinced that I killed _The Twins_ , no one will say anything if I'm a little hurt before they kill me.”

“Weren't they supposed to have a code?”

“We have a code. And we don't go against it, Derek. If you were chasing down a murderer, you wouldn't care if he's a bit bloody before.”

“But you don't kill anyone!”

“They think I did.”

“Then why aren't they going straight ahead? Why this game?” With Tia still in his arms, he took the few steps towards Derek, getting on his knees in front of his chair.

“Worst case scenario. If I did it, I deserve it. And there's this spell, it makes you tell the truth. I don't know why, but it works better if you're scared.” There were probably other Truth-spells, even better once, but that was the only one he got thought. He reached up, cupping Dereks cheek with his hand.

“Hey. I told you. They're not going to kill me!”

They stared into each other eyes until someone – his Dad? – coughed awkwardly. And it really was. Awkward that is. Derek sat up straighter and had a short, apparently telepathic conversation with Scott.

“Until this is over you two will stay here.” He flashed his eyes and let Scott continue.

“No wandering off alone. If you leave the house, you will take one of us with you.” Stiles was glad he was still sitting on the floor, because wtf?! Sure he would do it, not strong enough to go against collective pleading puppy eyes, but he didn't have to like it.

“Whatever.” They accept it for what it was, knowing he would do as he was told.

And Peter decided to remember everyone that he clearly was allergic to happiness, no matter how small and shallow it might be.

“Oh Stiles. Out of curiosity – is it true that they call you _Little Red_ because you were covered and dripping in blood?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nabu: mesopotamian god of Wisdom, writing and vegetation
> 
> And since I'm alomost back home and back to the wonderful world of internet, I wanted to let you know that I have a [tumblr](http://mostpeoplethinkiburnhot.tumblr.com/)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a onset of 'omg I have semester break' lazy. I'm working on it.

Stiles questioned the sanity of the people around him more often than not. Like right now. Not Peters though. There was no questioning that the man was bullshit crazy. But on every single pack member was a expression of horror. It would have been okay, if it was directed towards Peter. Nope. They stared at him like they just found out that he slaughtered fluffy little baby bunny’s for fun.

It didn't help that he was currently occupied chocking on his tongue. Also not helping was Jackson, who studied him contemplative.

“Could be.” Aaaand now they were gasping in shock at him, too. Only Peter grinned happily.While Stiles was now chocking on his tongue and spit and thin air.

“What?!” He croaked out.

“It makes sense. You did call me once covered in blood. And you are a bit of a slut. Were they jobs?” His Dad looked like he was about two seconds away from a heart attack, Derek incredible sick. Because – Kate. Great work, Jackson, really.

“Okay, okay. Stop it right now!” Oh, apparently he found his voice again.

“Seriously! Urgh, first: They don't call me _Little Red_ because I was dripping in blood. It was paint and it took me three days to get it out of my hair! Second: I'm not a slut! It were two years, I had a few One-Night stands. Shut up! Not one of them was a job. God! Who do you think I am? No, I said shut up. That was a rhetorical question.

As for the call – Sometimes someone has to clean up the mess someone else leaves behind. That's all. It was a clean up mission. And _I_ wanted to take a shower and sleep for the next 48 hours, but you left me a hysterical message, demanding I call you at once!”

After all this time how could they still believe what Peter said? Especially when he was grinning like that. He lied to them so often, told half truths and made stuff up and they always were shocked when it emerge that reality was something else entirely. How could Lydia let herself get fooled like that? And he couldn't even leave the house.

So he stormed into the kitchen. For some reason cocking always calmed him down. Maybe because his mother had done the same. You could aggressively open cans and violently cut meat – okay, he could see it.

He lifted Tia on the counter, giving her a kiss on the cheek and hoped she would understand the 'I'm not mad at you'.

 

Shorty after Derek walked it. That stupid man with his stupid separation anxiety.

“I'm still in the house.” Not looking at his alpha. Who did nothing but watch him cook. It was a bit unnerving. Until -

“I'm sorry.”

“You're sorry?” Stiles put, very carefully, the knife down.

“Why should you feel sorry for thinking that I'm suddenly a psychopath?” He yelled the last part, unable to keep his voice down. Which made Derek clearly uncomfortable, his eyes twitching to the door.

“They can hear you.”

“Yes, and they could hear me if I would whisper. This way I can at least hurt their ears. Because they're as stupid as you are!”

“They did nothing wrong.”

“Just you? You were doing all the same. You were all believing him! Allison is a Hunter, too. Peter really is a killer. But I'm the one that turns into Kate?!” Okay, maybe that was a low blow.

He thought every day of them, of his pack. Tried to find a way back home. And it wasn't fair that he got accused of turning his back on them and had to fight the urge to now wrap Derek into a tight hug, promising him that everything is okay.

“We didn't believe him.” And as angry and guilty as he felt, all he could manage was a 'seriously' look, getting him a annoyed huff in return. Though, he couldn't say why or whom Derek was annoyed with.

“Listening to Peter is like watching a car accident. You know you'll regret it, but you can't help imagine it. Like the one time he said Mr. Elsner does wear lace panties. It gives you nightmares but you just can't help it. And it's easy to imagine you dripping with blood. Although more because you would probably trip and fall face first into a puddle of goo.” Nope, that was not a snort. That was a horrified but indefinable noise at Dereks horrible example. He didn't laugh. He was still pissed at everyone.

“How do you think I got the paint on me?” What? Hello, Brain to mouth filter? That was not what he wanted to say. Or feel for that matter. Derek could keep his shy and sweet smiles to himself.

“Well, you always were a bit blood thirsty.” With a scowl he threw a piece of raw meat at the wolf. Who catch it with his mouth, swallowing it. Disgusting.

“No one thinks you have or will ever turn into someone like her. Peter just likes to mess with heads.” Fine, that was definitely a snort on his side.

“I know. I just – oh. _Oh!_ ” Breaking into a wide and toothy grin.

 

His sight became somewhat foggy when he reached for his spark, knowing his eyes would be completely and creepily white. Mouthing a spell. He could feel the soft tingling of his skin, the heat rushing through his veins, the way his heartbeat changed into a dance, slow and fast at the same time. The lack of oxygen making him dizzy. Someday he would learn how to keep breathing while casting a spell. He gave his spark another push, just because he could and let go. Coming back always felt like opening his eyes. The world turning back in focus.

Giving Derek – who stared at him with awe and something else, something Stiles wouldn't even try to identify, because he simply knew that would end awful – another wolfy grin, he marched into the living room.

“You, Peter Hale, are an arsehole. But fortunately so am I. Have fun the next 24 hours.” The puzzled at slightly concerned look on Peters face was it already worth.

“What did you do?” Allison asked, eyeing Peter expectant.

“You'll see. Maybe.” He turned back to Derek.

“If you order him to stay in the house, would he do so?” The Alpha shrugged with one shoulder.

“Could be. Why?”

“I guess that's my clue to leave.” As predicted Peter didn't came far.

Sure, he knew what spell he just did and it wasn't the first time he casted it (the second, but who counts anyway?), but he was thrilled by the outcome non the less. Peter stood up, tripped over his won feet, or maybe thin air or whatever, flailed for about three seconds and landed flat on the floor.

 

 

There were a few things Jackson knew about Stiles. The new Stiles. He knew, amongst other things, about his magical spark. He didn't told him about being a Hunter, but looking back it was almost obvious. All the fight training, the missions. The bruises when he came back.

It didn't matter. For him it made no difference if Stiles was a “puny human” or a skilled hunter. Over the last year they became friends. Good friends. He brighten him up when the boy was home sick, full of worry for his Dad and the pack that he couldn't sleep. Stiles calmed him down when he got lost in his anger over his parents and life in general. They argued for hours over everything. Trusted each other with secrets, hopes and fears. They talked about werewolves and other creatures. Jackson skipped school when Stiles had especially bad nightmares and Stiles looked with him through thousands of engagement rings.

He agreed to being his best man – if he lived so long and Becca still wanted to marry him after college. It was a condition both their parents stand on. The only difference was that his parents would be glad if they didn't last that long. Whereas hers would kill whoever broke up.

 

He would have to explain a lot to Becca later. Or sleep on the couch. Or sleep on the couch even though he explained it. His comment was not for Stiles, but for Derek. He didn't care how big Stiles crush on the Alpha was, if he couldn't accept that the younger boy was a hunter know and broke his heart, Jackson would rise hell. Stiles and Becca could beat him up for it later. Or never. Since the Alpha followed him in the kitchen with the expression of a kicked puppy.

Jackson knew Stiles would never voluntary bath in the blood of his enemies. If only because he found it disgusting and hated the clean up. Beside that he was definitely the type for it. He was always aggressive and somewhat blood thirsty. But Stiles would also never kill only for the joy of killing. He was a cop kid to the core, that would never change.

A good threat and a bit torture was something different. Maybe that was why he wasn't more freaked out by being shot by his own kind. He always appreciated games. They hadn't really talked about that, about the Knights and their work in general, but Jackson would bet that Stiles wasn't bad at this sort of game himself.

And it fit into his theory. He always found it logical that Stiles was the nogitsune. He was a perfect fox. Beautiful and innocent looking. Playful, sly, intelligent, miscreant and with a bite worse that his bark. All in all – oh! He knew that tone. Had already been on the receiving end of it.

Which was probably why he doesn't knew if he should be amused or horrified when Peter started to act like someone out of a infomercial. But he couldn't help the laugh bubbling out of him when the older wolf managed to break his arm – and the coffee table – at the attempt of catching some keys.

Stiles just grinned at him, smug and dangerous.

“Don't go against me.” And maybe he didn't needed any help to make sure they knew he was different now. Stronger. Still human, but not squishy, skinny or defenceless.

 

After a long moment of thick silence, probably to get his message across, Stiles turned around and looked him straight in the eye. _Oh Fuck!_

“You're an idiot! Thanks.” _Ha!_

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“God, you're so sweet. I'm going to mention it in my speech.” Stiles swiped a imaginary tear from his cheek before walking back in the kitchen.

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn't write it yet. The way it looks at the moment I'm not sure you survive so long.”

“Oh, believe me, I will. And only if to see you cry like a baby at my best man speech.”

“The thing is, I don't know if you will stay best man. I mean it'll be a few years. Can't be so hard to find someone better than you.”

“Whatever let you sleep at night, dude. I remember clearly how nervous you were when you asked me. Because I'm your best friend.”

“Wow. I thought they shot you in the shoulder an not in the head. There's something really wrong with your memory’s.”

“Hey, Baby Girl, can you chop that for me? Aww, thanks, you're the best! My memory's are perfectly fine. You just don't want to admit that I'm awesome. But don't worry, I know how you really feel.”

“Mate, I can't even describe how worried I am. When was the last time you visited a psychologist?”

“You're concerned about my health? Aww, dude. Keep going if you want me to fall in love with you.”

“Please, as if you never had a crush on me.”

“Sorry to disappoint. But your ego wouldn't have survived it. And we can't have that, can we?” The sniggering from the living room became a constant background noise. They were both smiling happily.

“Hey.”

“Mhm?”

“Now that Becca and I visited you here, you have to visit us, too.”

“Sure I will!” Stiles beamed at him. He had no idea why they weren't friends before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww Stiles and Jackson ..


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, a Dereks POV only chapter. The second half is ... not nice? As in angsty.

It was... weird hearing Stiles and Jackson bickering in the kitchen. They sounded so fond. It was a show, for them, just like for everybody else. And Derek... it was weird. It used to be Stiles and Scott, the unbreakable duo. Not even Werewolves could bring them apart. Though, they barley bickered like that. Now it seemed to be Stiles and Jackson, Scott and Isaac. For some reason it worked and maybe it even made sense. But he wasn't sure if he liked it.

On the other hand, Jackson would leave again, they would all sort of leave, it was possible that Stiles would want to spent more time with him. But (and unfortunately it was a big but) Stiles and Jackson hadn't really met in years. They formed this friendship with an ocean between them. Although the distance could be the reason for their closeness. Just like with him and Cora. Sometimes you understood one another from far away better. Which would mean it wasn't a good thing that Jackson would leave again.

It gave him headaches. He wanted Stiles to have good friends, to have people he could trust and count on no matter what. But on the same time, he wanted him for himself. Couldn't he be Stiles best friend? And more?

Derek stopped pacing. He was never the type to over think things and he wouldn't start with Stiles. Maybe. Hopefully.

 

After Dinner Scott kicked everyone out. Becca grabbed her boyfriend at the collar and dragged him with her. Now it was just them three. In a house that sometimes still was to big for him. He build it up different, changed the layout, moved it to the right. And still.

There were days when the past haunted him. When he could see little Cora jumping down the stairs. Thomas in his playpen in the living room, chewing on his toys. Phillip with a book by the window. He could see his mothers soft smile and his father 'trying' to sneak up on them, being as loud as an elephant. He could hear Lauras laugh, chasing him through the house or the woods.

Sometimes they filled the emptiness, sometimes they hurt. So much he couldn't stand it – them, the house, his life – and had to leave, run through the woods until he could breathe again. But with Stiles and Tia curled up on the couch, the memories didn't come.

 

Suddenly Tia grabbed Stiles hand, tugging it towards her, palm up and gave him big, pleading puppy eyes. But Stiles seemed to understand what she wanted. Laughing he tousled her hair, straighten it afterwards.

“Okay, lets see.” Biting his lip he thought for a moment. Which Tia used to make grabby hands at Derek. Looking scared for a moment, not sure if it was allowed. So how could he not give her what she wanted? She was pack, she shouldn't be afraid to ask anything of them. Walking over he snapped playfully at her.

“Look at that. Derek Hale joins Stiles awesome story-time! Ready?” He waited for her enthusiastic nod and begun.

“A long time ago, there lived a King. He ruled fair and just and all his people loved him. And even though his Kingdom was far bigger than most others, not many knew about it. But the King was glad about that. Because he lived under the sea.” On Stiles hand appeared a Merman, with long green hair and a grown made out of shiny black stone and white pearls. His tail had the colour of white and green marble. Derek was sure he was allowed to gap. There was a tiny Merman swimming in Stiles hand!

He reached over, stretching his own fingers – it looked so real! But there was nothing besides maybe a bit of cold air. And Stiles gave him a ridiculous smug grin.

“The King had six children. Three boys and three girls. And they grew up to be strong and wise like their father was. But his youngest daughter didn't want to become a queen or wife. Saphina dreamed of travelling the seven oceans, of fighting sea dragons and saving others.” The King changed into Saphina, with hair and eyes like sapphires, sitting under a stone arch and starring longingly in the distance.

“One day her oldest brother came to her. He cut down her beautiful hair ' _so you don't get caught in seaweed_ ', he gave her a knife ' _it's not nice, but it's strong_ ' and a catchall with food. ' _Take my dolphin_ ' he told her. ' _It's the fastest and strongest of them. It'll be a good companion._ ' Saphina touched her short hair, looked full of wonder at the things he gave her. ' _Why are you doing this?'_ Her brother smiled at her. ' _Because I love you._ ' So she gave him a hug and a kiss and left the palace to become a hero.”

 

Tia was almost asleep by the time Stiles finishes the story. He looked down, a fond smile on his face.

“I know you said I shouldn't leave, but we gonna need some stuff when we're to stay here.” His voice is low, as if he didn't want to disturb her. And Derek doesn't know how he can breathe. It felt like home, like Family. Not the way it had back then, with his parents and siblings still alive. Different and yet sort of the same. Stiles and Tia late in the evening on his couch with him. Telling stories, only the standard-lamp contributes light.

“I, uh, I have a bit here. Not much. Toothbrushes, something to wear, something to sleep in.”

“Did you bought us underwear, too? Sure you got it all in the right size?” His grin is wide and cheeky.

“It's going to be alright for a night.”

“Yeah? Why didn't you told us yesterday?”

“...I forgot.” He loves the way Stiles laugh at that. Happy.

“Alright then. Lead the way, mighty Alpha. This little pup here is ready for bed.” So he brings them up, shows them the room at the end of the corridor. It has just one bed, but Derek doesn't think they mind. He refused to think that Stiles would never come back, that he could be death. When he rebuilt the house he made sure to have a room for Stiles as well. And after the boy did came back, Derek opened the windows and made the bed, glad the kept the room for him.

He watched, leaning against the door frame, how Stiles helped Tia to brush her teeth. How they giggled at the light blue night shirt, covered with dozens of tiny wolves.

“I'll go back down, all right. Knock against the wall if some thing’s wrong, ok? I'll come back up.” She looked anxious, but nodded. Burying her face in a pillow.

“Do you want me to stay until you sleep?” Instead of answering she flung herself at Stiles, clinging to his shirt.

“It's okay to be scared.” He hauled her into a hug.

“Look at me, Baby Girl. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. And there is nothing you could do to make me love you less. I'll always be by your side. But sometimes you have to tell me what you want or need.” Placing a kiss on her forehead, he laid her back down.

“I'll stay. As long as you need me. Don't worry.”

“And the pack has both your backs.” Derek gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He nodded to Stiles and went back down. Cleaning up the kitchen and living room while he waited. Distracting himself.

 

“We need to talk.” Derek stated as soon as he heard Stiles near, getting a sigh in return.

“Any chance I can talk myself out of it?” He doesn't even look at Derek, but the the glare worked anyway.

“Yeah, I thought so.” On his way to the couch, Stiles stops by the fridge and grabs two beer. Handing one to Derek with a raised brow. A clear 'I dare you to say anything'.

“Well, then. Talk.” Stiles leans back in the cushions, one bare feet on the couch, one on the carpet. Talking is sill hard for him, even after all this time. Especially when he doesn't know where or how to begin. He wants to know who shot him, if he can kill them. He wants to know if Stiles will stay with him. What he exactly did those two years. What the secret behind Tia is. Tons of whats and hows and whys. But he knows, as much as Stiles loves talking, he's pretty good at not talking about himself. And the last days must have tested his patience.

Thankfully the boy doesn't push, waits for him to collect his thoughts, to find a beginning. And something warm spreads inside him at the knowledge that Stiles is even considering to answer more questions from him.

“I … We don't think you can't protect yourself. That's not why we want you to stay here.” It's not a question, but with all what's going on he need Stiles to know that.

“You don't want to lose me again. And with me having to look after Tia as well, you want me to have backup all the time. I get it. That's okay. Uh, thanks I guess.” He takes a sip of his beer, pick at his jeans.

“But, can you promise me something?” Derek's not going to like it. Can practically taste it, sees it in the way Stiles shifts in his seat, won't meet his eye. It's important to him.

“What?”

“Please. Promise me.” It's extremely important to him. And Derek will absolute hate it.

“I promise.”

“If it ever comes down to it – not just now, but any time – if you have to chose between me and Tia, save her. Always her.” He stares directly in Stiles eyes now. All big and scared and the colour of warm honey. Derek was right. He hates it. The thought alone is physically painful. He wants to say no. Take him in his arms, hold him tight, saying it will never come down to it. That he can't chose someone else over him. But he don't. He just swallows around the knot his his throat, tries to remember how his voice works.

“I promise.” But promise me I never have to chose. Promise me I wont lose you again. Promise you stay.

“Thank you.” Both are quite for a while after that. Nursing their drinks. Avoiding each others glances.

“Why -” He takes another draught, than a gulp of air.

“Why do you feel so guilty about her?” The look on Stiles face is like a punch to the stomach. He looks conscience-stricken, distressed, sorry, pained. But only for a second or two, before covering it up with a mask. Derek … he fights the urge to rip the mask apart, to take the question back. He needs to know, but can't bear see him like that again. So he sits on his end of the couch and waits.

“Because I was there. Because I killed her parents.” That's not what he expected. Stiles apparently lost in his own memory. Remembering what he told them about Tias pack. Slaughtered. Ripped apart. Worse than everything they've ever seen. It won't fit. Stiles wouldn't do that. Wasn't capable of something so gruesome.

“I guess that's what happen if you run straight into a pack war. Nobody cares on which side you're actually on. Or if there were children. I've seen how she crawled into her hiding place. So I stood between her and the rest. I had to made sure nobody gets trough her. And I tried to get the others as well, but they were to scattered. I couldn't leave, if that meant maybe saving no one. So I just.. let nobody through. Until everybody was death or run away.” Stiles voice was flat, almost emotionless, wasn't quite back in the moment.

“But you said -” Something stopped him. A sound? A soft whistle, followed by loud shattering of glass. Lot of glass. And dull thuds. Werewolf or not, Stiles was upstairs faster than him, ripping his bedroom door open. Tia was laying on the floor next to the bed, shivering but alive, no blood. The widow broken, two bullet holes in the wall, one in her pillow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to not like me for doing this to Tia. (◠︿◠✿)  
> Look - [tumblr](http://mostpeoplethinkiburnhot.tumblr.com/)


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so much easier to READ fanfiction that to WRITE it ... and a lot more distracting. *sigh* 
> 
> Anyway. Wish me luck! I could get an internship in London!!!

He's shaking, sitting on the floor next to Tia. Hands fanatic flying over her, searching for injuries. Derek stands by the broken window, wolved out and growling. Stiles didn't care. Someone shot at his girl. He picks her up and darts out of the room. Away from windows. One part of him wants to run out, hunt who ever tried to hurt her, kill them. But the other part of him _needs_ to stay at Tias side, make sure she's alright. And it's not like he couldn't rip somebody's throat out when Tia was save and sleeping again.

They're just outside the room, on the hallway floor, far and down enough from any windows. Near enough to run back in if something happen to Derek. Stiles holds Tia tight, not sure how she can still breathe, but unable to let go. It's one thing to shot him, another to try and kill his kid. (Because lets face it, there is no way he'll ever give her up again.)

“Are you alright, Baby Girl?” His voice trembles, sounding scared. It's not how he wanted it to come out. But when she nods his shoulders relax somewhat. He has no idea how he will ever be able to let her sleep alone. Not that it matters right now. Right now he needs to calm down.

Stiles closes his eyes, feels Tias heartbeat against his chest, he takes a deep breathe. Willing the fear out, forces himself to focus, to relax. Concentrating on details usually does the trick, so he pays attention to the chill in the air, the feeling of wood boards against his legs and ass, the smell of Tias hair shampoo.

“Okay, so. How do you feel about going back down, cuddle on the couch and watching 'The Incredibles'?” He took her with him in the kitchen, making hot chocolate. It was unlikely that they would try something again tonight. Not when he and Derek were high on alert. Besides (hopefully) Tia they probably wouldn't get any sleep today. But as long as his little girl was save that was okay.

He envied her a bit. As long as Stiles was there she could sleep under any given circumstances.

“Derek, come back down!” He shouted. And surprisingly the werewolf listened, slowly walking down the stairs, looking equal parks like the grumpy cat and a kicked puppy. They waited in the hallway for him, were Tia hold one of the cups out. It was cute, really. The big bad wolf defeated by a six year old girl.

She gave him a sharp nod, took his empty hand and dragged him with her into the living room, to the couch. Stiles followed, in every hand a cup with chocolate. He dutifully turned on the movie, waiting for her to settle comfortable in the small space between Derek and him.

“Drink. We talk later.” He told the alpha.

It wasn't exactly awkward watching the movie together. But it wasn't comfortable either. Neither of them were talking, but he could hear Derek think so loud he could barley concentrate on his own thoughts. Luckily – thankfully – Tia fell asleep halfway through.

Sitting close enough that their shoulders were almost touching, Tia sleeping on top of both of them, he didn't know where to start. What to say.

“You said they wouldn't hurt her.” Okay, what? Just to make that clear, Tia was his hopefully-soon-to-be-adopted daughter. Derek had no right to make it sound like it was the other way round or that it was Stiles fault. Because Fuck you!

“They wouldn't! Who ever that was, was no Knight. They were doing this to hurt me, not you. Besides you can't think I'll let them go away with this. So shut the crap.” He hissed. It was probably not fair to let his anger out at Derek. But … he started it!

God, he was turning back into his 16 year old self.

“She's part of the pack.” And she was a kid. And innocent. She had nothing to do with all of this. And Derek had already lost enough young and innocent pack members. Awesome, Stiles. He was allowed to not think exactly straight after his kid was almost killed. Together with this thought came the realisation what his father had to go through the last years.

“I promised that -”

“No! Derek, don't.” Stiles reached over, grabbing his alphas arm, only remembering afterwards to be careful to not wake Tia. He knew the only reason they weren't pacing trough the room, shouting at each other was because of the little girl in their laps. It was different to discuss something with Derek more or less calm and reasonable. And maybe better.

“That wasn't your fault! I promised to keep her safe. I don't make promises I know I can't keep. And I know after this morning you were still listening for someone to come near again. I know you kept watching out. And my spider senses weren't tingling either. Because you can be sure that I have some tell-me-if-something-is-about-to-hurt-her wards around her. But I got nothing.

Whoever that was, they're good. We both got nothing prior. There was nothing you could have done.”

“But -” Stiles shook his head vehement.

“No! It wasn't your fault! There was nothing you could have done to prevent that. I thought that only the Knights were after me. In which case she would have been safe. Don't do that to you. It wasn't your fault.” Without giving it more thought - so he couldn't chicken out - he leant over – oh god, Derek would kill him for this! - cupping his face with one hand – why was nobody stopping him?! - and kissed him. Should he think about that instead of going on a guilt trip.

Just a soft brush of warm lips. A bit shy. There was no way Stiles would ever forget how they felt. And Derek being Derek did the only thing he absolute didn't expect.

He kissed him back! He could hear a low whine and then Derek kissed him back. Derek Hale. Kissing him. He was emotional not capable of dealing with that. After a few seconds he could feel a hand in his hair, a warm, wet tongue tracing his lower lip. Yep, Derek was definitely trying to kill him. He opened up anyway. How was that happening?

God. He wanted.

He wanted to straddle him. He wanted to suck on that tongue, bite on his lower lip – which he just did, getting a moan in return. Fuck.

He wanted to bite along his jaw.

He wanted to suck on his earlobe.

He wanted to graze his teeth over the soft spot behind it.

He wanted to nibble down his neck.

He wanted to suck a Hickey in the dip between his collar bones, watching it disappear again.

He wanted to … stop right there because he had a sweet, innocent, six year old kid sleeping on his thighs. Maybe he should get used to it. Having a kid had to be the biggest cock blocker ever.

Looking at Derek afterwards was a mistake. With his wild hair (did Stiles did that?), swollen red lips, adorable bunny teeth, wide blown green-grey-blue-brown eyes. How was that even a colour?Why was it so beautiful? How could he stop getting sappy? He took it back. Tia wasn't cock blocking. The ones trying to kill them were. Assholes. Without them, Tia would be safe asleep in their bedroom and he and Derek – nope, not going there.

“So. That was unexpected.” He said at last.

“But I can't even tell you how okay I am with that.” Because there was no way he would ever think he had any chance with Derek like at all. And it was Derek who started to turn it into a make out session. If that means it could be possible that something might happen between them? Stiles is so, so okay with that.

Derek was still only looking at him, slightly dazzled. Emotions flitting through his eyes faster than Stiles could decipher them. But the longer he just sat there, the more nervous Stiles became. He had kissed back, true, it just didn't look as if that meant it was a good thing to do. Finally he opened his mouth, closing it again. Open it again.

“Don't make me one … I'm not …” He looked so hurt saying it. Hurt and helpless and halting and Stiles had no idea why or what he wanted to say but was his fault. His brain stormed trough the last days, coming up with reasons why Derek could think that was a bad idea. It was an alarming long list.

He was a Hunter.

He had a Killer on him.

He had the Knights going after him.

He was human.

He had tried to kill them all.

He had a kid.

He just came back from two possible brain-washing years of capture.

He … Jacksons words came back to his mind. 'Slut' and his 'One Night stand' response. Oh! Derek thought …

“Never!” Leaning back over to give him another kiss. Just one. Slightly. Easily. Airy. But hopefully with a lot of meaning. And finally – finally – Derek gave him a tiny, brilliant smile in return.

 

 

Two attempts. Two failures. They all knew Litte Red was good. He was the new magic star amongst the Knights. It didn't matter. For what he did, he would die. He would be the mouse in the game. Maybe losing someone he loved before, too.

It couldn't going on too long. To dangerous to give him time to strike back. To dangerous to provoke the wolf pack to long. It was already difficult to keep enough distance so they wouldn't hear or smell anything. Still. Little, blood dripping Red would not survive this game. Not this time. No matter what.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm sorry!

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _Someone else is after me too. Tried to kill Tia last night._ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _She's fine. Just some holes in the wall._ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _I kissed him! He kissed back!! We kissed!!!_ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _Tia & I are not allowed to be alone in a room. Alphas order >:(_“

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _We're also not allowed to use a bathroom with windows. The fuck?!_ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _He likes me :D_ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _Council of war later. If you want to come._ ”

Jackson groaned and threw his mobile back on the bedside table. He didn't know if it was up to Stiles or Bacon Hills but he sure as hell didn't missed all the life-threatening trouble.

“I changed my mind. We're going back to London. Today.” Her response were a set of claws in his chest and a growled 'quiet'. It never was a good idea to wake her up before she wanted to. But even half or completely asleep she knew who she could hit.

The first time his mother woke her, he had a heart attack. And found them happily chatting about breakfast. When asked her answer was a scandalised look and the statement that you don't hurt humans. Since then he send his parents to wake her when she slept over.

He skidded out of bed and made it all the way to the bathroom before he turned around.

“Someone tried to kill Tia. But she's fine.” Ignoring her shocked yell he closed the door.

For a moment he thought about telling Becca about the kiss. But Stiles probably wouldn't want anyone else to know. It was 'just' a kiss. No we're together, no we try and see how it works out. And although he had the tendency to over share certain details of his life, more often than not Stiles treasured his privacy. And if it turned out as nothing (and Jackson would kick ass if needed) he wouldn't want anyone else to know that something happened.

So he kept the information to himself, hiding from Beccas protective rage over a child she’d barley seen so far. Maybe it was a Werewolf thing. Because there was no way he would leave the city before Tia was safe and someone took care of the attackers. And maybe until the whole Knight-thing was sorted out. He really didn't want to search for a new best man. Or some other excuse.

 

Back out his fiancé declared that they were going shopping. Kids stuff. Toys. Sweets. Bulletproof vests. And while there were at it, they could also bring something for Stiles. Weapons for example. So what else could he do than say yes and smile helplessly at her. Damn he loved that woman.

“He left his _Wolf_ behind. Not that we would find something like it, but maybe a substitute till he get it back?”

“Oh, that's a perfect idea.” She placed a chaste kiss on his lips and rushed to the bathroom.

“I'll hurry!”

**To: medieval weirdo**

“ _We come by later. Going shopping before to spoil your kid._ ” Being extremely grounded obviously meant that Stiles had nothing better to do than wait for someone to text him.

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _Make an effort! Don't know who brought what but we suddenly have a chemistry box, a swing set, a bicycle and a chest with legos._ ”

**To: medieval weirdo**

“ _Anything to make sure we're the best?_ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _She's a painter_ ”

**From: medieval weirdo**

“ _And she loves anything fox_ ” Now that was something he could work with.

“Ready to go!” He send a 'later' to Stiles and let Becca usher him out of the hotel.

 

They just parked outside the Hale house, the trunk full of 'presents'.

“JACKSON!!! SAVE ME!” Stiles screamed from somewhere. He sounded distressed, but not in pain and it doesn't smelled like danger or blood either. Jackson rushed inside anyway, leaving Becca with the bags from the shopping trip. Stiles sat on the stairs, head in his hands.

“What's wrong?”

“Make them go away. God, not even 24 hours and this perpetual hovering drives me insane.” Jackson slapped him on the arm.

“Don't scare me like that, ass. Now get up and be impressed. We brought presents.”

“I'm suffering. Don't be a meanie.”

“You're not the only one.” With another slap and a heavy sigh he went back outside to help carry the bags. Stiles meanwhile had hoarded everyone in the living room. The perfect setting for Beccas next big entrance.

“Hey Sweety. You alright?” Tia nodded, licking at her chocolate covered fingers.

“Stiles said you like painting. We, uh, we brought you something. I hope you like it.” She placed two bags in front of her. It was adorable to see how the girls eyes grew bigger and bigger the more paint and brushes and canvas and colour books she unpacked. Each item had first to be inspected by her, them by Stiles. And only after his approval nod she smiled, squeezed it happily against her chest. It took a while, since Becca did her best to buy every paint related item in the store.

“Wow. Okay, the colour books can stay here, everything else goes down in her play room.” Stiles directed, shooing everyone out of the room. Isaac lead the group to Tias play room, whereas Aiden an Ethan made their way up to the first floor, installing the new windows. Soon it was just Derek, Stiles, Tia and him in the living room.

He watched her a moment, sorting and shelving her new colour books.

“Tia, I still have something for you.” Earning a curious glance from the girl and an eye roll from Stiles.

“You're all spoiling her to death.” Jackson just shrugged. It wasn't really his problem. Besides Stiles was lying if he said he wasn't glad and touched how the pack treated his little girl. Crouching down in front of Tia he pulled out a small box. He carefully opened it and draw out a thin gold necklace. On it hung a small, also gold pendant in the shape of a fox. As an eye it had a tiny ruby red stone.

“I've heard you like foxes. If you like it, it's yours.” Tia stared at the necklace, eyes wide as plates, mouth hanging open. And then she smiled. As bright as the sun. Hesitantly, as if scared to damage the jewellery she reached out. Brushing her fingertips over it.

“Turn around.” As soon as he clasped the lock shut she whirled back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I think you just hit the jackpot. She'll adore you for the rest of her life.” Stiles was smiling softly at both of them. It made Jackson want to hug him too. Over the last year Stiles became his best friend. He would seriously consider to delay his own wedding if his best man couldn't make it. But in all this time he'd never seen him smile like that. Even with all the bullshit going on right now, Stiles was genuinely happy.

Tia let go of him and turned to her probably-soon-to-be father, holding the pendant so he could see.

“Wow, Honey. That's absolute beautiful. You have to take good care of it.” She nodded hastily, still grinning from ear to ear.

“Why don't you show it to the others?” With a last nod to Stiles and a big smile towards Derek she bounced down the stairs. Before he could do something stupid, like hug him for being happy, Jackson shoved his hands down his jeans pockets.

“We thought about buying something for you as well, but I don't think we would have found something even remotely suitable as cover for your wolf.”

“Aww, thanks man. I already asked _Butcher_ if there's a way to get my _Big Bad Wolf_ back. As for the rest, I wanted to talk to Allison anyway.”

 

 

Derek wanted to hum. It was a tiny bit unnerving. He wanted to hum and make pancakes and cuddle. Which was a horrible idea. The last time he tried to make pancakes, Laura took the pan from him and threaten to beat him bloody with it if he ever did so much as touch a frying pan. As for the other two things. It simply wasn't like him. And the others would no doubt tease him merciless.

Sure as a werewolf he was more tactile than the usual human, but even with the strong pack bound they formed by now he only cuddled in the occasional puppy pile. His singing voice wasn't that bad. Average. He was better on the piano (maybe he should start playing again). It was just, if he started humming all sudden his pack would probably freak out, waiting for the world to end. They were all still so dramatic.

So he did none of the above. Instead he freaked a bit out on Stiles. Trying to pack him in wool as subtle as possible. It didn't work one bit. Ordering new windows for the whole house. Bulletproof. And then he freaked out a bit more.

Whoever was after Stiles, they were damn good in what they did. He didn't sensed or smelled them. He didn't hear the bullets flying. It scared him. Not just because of his feelings for Stiles and Tia. But for the rest of the pack as well. They should be safe here. He should have been able to protect them. He couldn't.

 

At dawn he send a message to the pack, telling them about the assault. Ordering them not to come before 9 am and not all at once. He guessed they fought about the order they would arrive. Scott was the first one. Having the trump card of being Stiles best friend and an alpha of the pack. Everyone brought gifts for Tia. Seriously, the girl would be spoilt rotten by the end of the year. Worse than Lydia and Jackson together. Thinking of his own brand new and giant collection of Disney movies, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about it. She deserved all the things she wanted and a pack that loved her.

He shock his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track. The whole pack was there, so it was always someone around Stiles and Tia and he could talk to several members without interruption. Hopefully.

He headed to Scott first. A real grown up Alpha-to-Alpha conversation about what the fuck they were supposed to do. And to send the boy to Deaton. Derek still wasn't his biggest fan. If he could avoid talking to the vet, he did it. Even though it felt a bit childish to send his Co-Alpha, it was worth it.

“We should go to Deaton. Maybe he knows some -” Derek waved his right hand trough the air.

“Druid-Emissary-whatever things to protect the property better. I want it a safe house for all of us. And nether Stiles nor I could sense or hear anything.”

“I'll talk to him. I mean, it's his job as our Emissary, right?” Thank god. He wasn't sure if it was simply Scotts puppy nature or if he know that Derek didn't really want to talk to Deaton. It didn't matter anyway. That was what Co-Alphas were for. Together they had a pretty good control over the pack. More or less.

“Stiles said he had some wards around Tia, I wanted to ask him later if he knows something for the house as well. I get new windows soon. Ethan and Aiden are provisional mending the window and wall in Stiles room. And we should run patrols around the perimeter a few times per day. Groups of two. Any other ideas?”

“Mhm, we could ask the Sheriff to check for something unusual.”

“His son got shot. I'm sure he already does that.”

“Probably. How far are the safe rooms?”

“Almost done. Both versions. Chris already installed the cameras. But I don't think they will be ready before this is over.”

“Okay.” Scott patted him on the arm. He always did that when he thought Derek did something especially good. Like a fucking dog treat. It was probably a remain of their I-don't-trust-you-you're-a-bad-alpha phase.

“I'll talk to Deaton and schedule the perimeter runs. You talk to Stiles. Maybe he figured out who is all after him.”

 

It took hours to catch Stiles alone. The pack decided to stay for an unlimited period to welcome Tia and protect their friend. Right now they were all puppy piling in the living room, watching Tarzan and bickering what the best Disney movie was. Stiles whirled through the kitchen, preparing Dinner and humming along to ' _Son of Man_ '.

And with no one around Derek gave in, wrapping his arms around the boys waist from behind, looking over his shoulder. Relishing the warmth and smell of Stiles.

“What are you making?”

“Uh, I have some Broccoli Chicken Shells and Cheese. You know, like Mac 'n 'cheese but with broccoli and chicken in it. And a Meat & Potato Casserole. Salad and garlic bread. And some cinnamon rolls for later. Now your fridge is empty. You need to go shopping.”

“I can do that. Smells good.” Stiles chuckled and leaned back against his chest, sighin.

“I can't remember. Were they always that loud?”

“Usually you're the loudest. Did they held you in a temple or something?”

“Aww, making jokes. No. But, I don't know, it was quieter. Not so many people, more learning, some bitching about who is on garbage duty or why the hell the washer didn't work. Whining when I kicked them out of the kitchen every time I made cookies.”

“Sounds … domestic.” He hugged him tighter, fighting the mix of jealousy and sadness in his chest down.

“Most of the time it was. Well, sort of like here. Lots of training, combat and magic. They had an absolute amazing library.” Stiles turned in his arms, wooden spoon still in his hand.

“No, really. It was awesome. They had books on everything! Not just the how-to-kill-it kind. There was this book – god, I don't know how old it was – but it was full of anatomic drawings. They were so beautiful. And accurate! Absolute amazing. And an diary of an vampire! From around 1817. I think he used blood as ink. But damn, was that guy funny. That is, if you like black humour. And mmph-” He couldn't help it. Stiles looked so … his eyes wide and sparkling, a light blush on his cheeks, hands (and spoon) flying trough the air. Beautiful or gorgeous didn't cover it. So he kissed him.

Just chaste but with the promise of more. Stiles melted against him instantly, all the giddy energy leaving his body. He still had a twinkle in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks, his lips red and glistening, smiling shy and small and happy. And if the pack wasn't around – well, it was probably for the best they were.

“Sounds like you have to start an amazing library on your own.” Derek knew his voice was deeper and the wolves in the pack had to know what just happened, but. Who cares.

“Mine will be better.”

“I bet.” He was pretty sure he looked idiotic. Smiling sappy. Urgh.

“So. Uhm, you said you had some wards around Tia. Can you do something like that around the house?” No, no no no. He took the question back. Stiles was winding out of his hug, turning his back to him.

“Actually, that's a pretty good idea. I don't know. My escape was rather spontaneous. Don't have any of my stuff. But I ask B- _Butcher_ if there's something. I could try a slight modification of the spells I used on Tia. But I'm not sure if they work on non living things. I'll try something after Dinner. I think I could at least install some warning bells.”

“Good. Need some help cooking?” Stiles smiled cheekily at him.

“Wanna chop some onions?” Yeah, he could do that. Maybe even cry a bit just to hear him laugh.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again :) So proud of me.  
> @j.luis fast enough? ;) But don't get used to it, I don't think I can keep it up.  
> Anyway. Have to finish this story, because I already have a few new ideas. Horrible.

The thing was Stiles had no idea. Or no, he had an idea, he just didn't like it. Scratch that. He had several ideas for several problems. Why does always everything happen at once? Right now, ideas weren't helping. Cradling his coffee cup he glanced back at his friends.

They spend the night in a puppy pile on the living room floor, watching more movies than was healthy in one go. Everything was good until he had to suppress the urge to kill someone as soon as he realised that Tia had no idea what was going on. Apparently her family didn't do puppy piles. He hugged her tight, explaining that it was something the pack did to bond and heal, to express their trust and love of each other. He was grateful of Dereks hand on his shoulder blade, keeping him calm.

Now they were munching down coffee, cereals and fruits. Stiles sitting again on the stair to the upper level, being in sight just so. It was the most private he would get until this was over. His head was spinning and he _needed_ to do something. Starting a mental to-do list wasn't much, but at least something.

  *  Talk to Dad about adoption. He's the sheriff, he knows who to talk to
  *  Don't over analyse the … the thing with Derek. Until the threat on your live is over, just roll with it
  *  Get Allison to get you some weapons. Pointy ones.
  *  Call Belle.



There wasn't much he could do with the Derek thing. They kissed, they hugged. He had no idea what they were. But they were something. And that had to be enough for now. The talk with his Dad wasn't something he could, or wanted, to do over the phone, so it had to wait until he could cajole someone to let him go to the station. Allison was still on her first cup of coffee. You don't talk to someone on their first cup of coffee. Like never.

That left Belle. Which meant he had to do something the wolves wouldn't like. They would hate it, and it would hurt them. But it was better that way. Besides, he wasn't ready to let them know everything.

Letting his eyes flash white, he created a sound proof barrier around him, making it shimmer slightly green. As predicted, as soon as the barrier was finished Dereks head snapped up, a panicked look on his face. Stiles waved his hand, beckon him over. Pulling at his arm until they were both standing in the green light. Dereks eyes growing big when he could his heartbeat again.

“I'm fine. It's a sound proof barrier-bubble-thingy. Don't worry, okay. I just have to make a call.” The face of his alpha said clearly that it wasn't okay.

“We won't listen.”

“Yes, you will. And I'm not – I can't –“

“Please.” Oh fuck. Well, that was a nice project for the future. Find a way to not cave the instant Derek makes puppy dog eyes. He sighed heavy, pulling out his mobile.

“Just … nothing leaves this bubble, all right.” Derek nodded solemn, relieve floating his eyes. Pressing call it took him about a second to decide to turn on the speaker as well. Belle picked up almost immediately.

“Hey Butch.”

“You alright, little one?”

“More or less. I need you to get in touch with the Knights in town. I need to talk to them.”

“I can try. But, they're not talking to me, little one. Saying if something comes up I should call _Suit_.” Suit had always reminded him a bit of Peter. Sassy as if his live depended on it, somewhat crazy and tried to kill every knight at least once. It was his way of showing he cared. Got his name from the fact that he probably slept in his damn suits. Even though he was a Knight, _Suit_ was more of a outsider. And since he had, for reasons he really didn't want to know, a soft spot for Stiles, he wouldn't participate in the hunt.

“Yeah, well, maybe something came up. Unless they changed the code since I left, someone else is after me. Tried to kill me and my kid.”

“They what?! No, wait. You have a kid?”

“Picked her up when _the Twins_ died. Not the point. They shot me. Good snipers. They want to hurt me, kill me and they don't care if they run over innocents in the process.” He could feel Derek tense up at his words.

“I maybe have a suspicion. But I need to talk to _Bloodhound_. Or someone else, really. If they're in town, they know who else is after me. I don't care about the procedure. They tried to kill my kid and they're going to pay for it. So, I don't know, call _Suit_ if the others don't pick up. He can get a hold of _Hound_. I need to talk to them!”

“Okay. I call them. And I'm coming over.”

“Butch, no.”

“Cut the crap, Stiles! I'm not with them because they know I would help you. It's no secret that if I had to chose, I would always chose you. Just like you would always chose me. So shut up, send me an address and make sure you have some cookies for me.”

“Gods. Thanks, Belle. I love you.”

“Love you, too, little one. See you soon.”

 

Stiles breathed deep for a few times, pulling his hand through his hair before turning back around to face Derek. Who looked less than thrilled.

“Uhm, I can send her the address of my Dads. I mean, she will figure out where you live anyway, but, I don't know, it's the thought that count?”

“No, she can come. Don't have a bed for her though.”

“Oh, that's okay. She can have mine.” Derek flinched at his words. Looking uncertain and .. hurt?

“Derek.” But he twisted fast enough that Stiles only grabbed air instead of his arm.

“It's okay. I just thought – It's okay.” What? Oh. Oh!

“Derek. Stop.” He pleaded that the Alpha would listen. And at least he stopped, staying just inside the green shield.

“Yes, I love her. Just like I love Scott or Jackson. I said she can have my bed because I don't plan on sleeping in it. She is – She's my Laura.” At that Derek turned back and Stiles wanted nothing more than pull him in his arms. But the pack was observing them, frowning.

“I kissed you and I meant it. You kissed me back. You care for me. I know that much, but I have no idea what that means for us. What we are. Because I want us to be something so badly. But I'm scared. I try not to think about it, just roll with it and take whatever you're willing to give me. With all this stuff going on right now – I don't think I could handle rejection as well.

“And when you look at me like that I just want to hug you. But I know that if something comes out of it, even if not, it will influence the pack. I have absolutely no idea what to do. And I really try not to think about it, so we can clean up this mess and everything can go back to normal. But you're in my head all the time.” Stiles knew he was babbling, vomiting out everything in his head like he was sixteen again. He got a brain-to-mouth-filter with the Knights, it just decided not to work sometimes. The worst of it was probably his voice. Small, broken. A little kid on the brink of crying.

Dereks reaction wasn't exactly what he had expected. In one long step he was in front of him, hand on the back of his neck. Kissing him. Right where the pack could see them. Where Tia could see them. But Stiles was nothing, if not lost for the man so he kissed back.

“I want us to be something, too.” Derek whispered. Foreheads touching, mouths not even an inch apart.

“And I'm terrified that this time we don't win. That I don't get the chance to be with you.” It should be illegal to feel so happy. They were kissing again, and Derek smiled at him. A real, proper, incredible beautiful smile. And Tia was there, face red with joy, jumping up and down, holding both their hands.

Someone tried to kill him and his little girl. He really shouldn't have the time to get the man of his dreams. Then again, when was his life ever predictable?

 

The pack was surprisingly quiet about the new development. They grinned at them and each other, Isaac winked and Jackson bumped their shoulders together when Stiles sat back down next to him. Besides that, they all acted like nothing happened.

“Allison? Do you think you could get me some pointy weapons? And maybe a gun?” Her answering smile was all teeth.

“I though you never ask. I'll bring something over later. Any specific wishes?” He shrugged.

“Gun heavy. Pointy things not heavy. Do you guys have claws?”

“I think you're covered on the claws side.” Scott frowned, wiggling his hands.

“Not what I meant, Scotty. Claws are brass knuckles with small blades on it. It's great in close combat, like a tiny Wolverine.”

“I read about them. I'm sure Dad can get some. Have you fought with them?”

“Yeah, they're great. Mine were a bit .. modified. They could absorb fluids. Like wolvesbane or death man's blood.”

“Nice. What's your WOC*?”

“Could we like not talk about weapons and killing over breakfast?” Scott piped in again.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Aiden and Ethan took that moment to came back from their perimeter run.

“Smells funny outside.” Aiden grumbled.

“And the Sheriff is almost here.” Continued his brother.

“What does it smells like?” Derek was instantly alarmed. Given the circumstances it was probably good that the Alpha had slight paranoid tendencies. But the twins just shrugged.

“Dunno. Nothing strong. No wolvesbane or mountain ash or something like that.”

“Maybe a bit like electricity.”

“I did nothing!” Kira jumped in.

“And it doesn't feel like another Kitsune is near the house. Maybe it's a thunderstorm?”

“No, doesn't smell like rain.” The frown on Dereks face deepened. But the Sheriff drove up before he could say something else.

 

Stiles was the first on the door. If something was up, he didn't wanted his Dad outside, playing target.

“Dad, hurry up and get in.” He managed to sound more annoyed than concerned. To bad Nate knew him better.

“Something wrong?”

“They're a pack of teenage werewolves. There's always something wrong.” But at least his Dad was awesome and jogged up the veranda. Letting himself get shoved inside. Derek stood right in the door, eyeing the woods suspicious.

“Apparently it smells funny outside. Could mean absolute nothing. Could mean -” Stiles staggered forward, gasping, falling in someone’s arms.

He was dragged inside, could hear loud voices, someone roaring, the door slammed shut. It took him a few seconds to process that Derek was roaring, that Aiden and Ethan were back outside, chasing someone. The loud voices belonged to the pack, his Dad. Calling his name, asking if he was okay. Tia sat next to his ear, hand in his hair, whimpering. If he could just figure out what just happened, what the pain between his shoulder blades meant. Why was it so hard to concentrate?

Stiles tried to breathe, to ignore the pain and think. Faces appeared in front of him. Concerned and panicked eyes swam in and out focus. Green and grey and brown. Derek. He took another deep breath. Needed everybody to shut up, to assure them that it was not as bad as it probably looked. Except it was.

“We need him to the Hospital!” Someone urged. His Dad?

“Deaton.” Derek.

And then he caught sight of a slim object on the floor. Covered in blood. Stiles frowned. He was shot only a few days before. It felt different now. Worse. But he was just hit by a knife. That was a knife, right? Strong arms picked him up. A muffled voice.

“Nate, you drive.” And then there were outside. But it didn't matter. He didn't care. Because he recognised the knife.

It was Belle's.

 

 

_Bull's eye! And the poison would get him soon enough._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me!!!  
> *WOC = Weapon of choice


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely should stop using words like 'definitely'. No time related promises ever again! 
> 
> Have some Mama-Stilinsky- feels. And some Stiles-Belle-feels. And some general feels about everyone.

Nate was sure it was a bad idea to let him drive. No matter how cool and steady he was in usual dangerous situations – that was his son in the back seat! His hands trembled, his heartbeat could launch a rocket and his eyes were more on the rear mirror than on the street. He knew it was a bad idea to let him drive.

Then again, it also was a bad idea to let him drive when Claudia went into labour. Or the night he came back from work only to find his wife unconscious on the living room floor. So, now he did the same as then. He turned on the blues and drove faster.

Derek had his son in his lap, one hand pressed against the wound on his back. The other one wandered. Through his hair, down his cheek, over his forehead, hovering over his neck. And Stiles was pale. So very, very pale. He didn't move, hanging in the wolfs arms, eyes closed. He didn't even whimper or moan. Nothing at all. The only reason Nate new his son was still alive was the fact that Derek wasn't freaking out. Well, more than he already did. He still took his pain away, black veins curling up his arm, eyes unmoving on Stiles face. The world could go down outside, he wouldn't notice.

The sheriff understood. He had suspicions about his feelings towards Stiles, but ever since his boy came back, it was plain to see. Seeing through Stiles was a lot harder. He just hoped he felt the same about the Alpha. They would be good for each other.

He turned his attention back to the street. Frowning at the bright sunlight. It felt somewhat surreal. It should be dark and raining. But it wasn't even noon and another beautiful, peaceful day in Beacon Hills. And why the hell were they not there yet? Was the distance always this long? Nate forced himself to take a deep breath. It was okay. Apparently his son could heal himself from a bullet wound, so what could a tiny knife do? He refused to remember all the ugly and deathly knife wounds he had seen so far. It was okay. Deaton had kept the pack alive till now. It was okay.

“Stiles.” Dereks voice let him grip the wheel harder, knuckles turning white. He sounded so lost.

“ _Please._ ” But they still had time. Stiles was still alive, Derek was holding him in his arms and Tia wouldn't let go of his hand no matter what. More importantly – they were finally there. The Vet already outside and waiting.

 

Derek carried him, placing him on a silver examination table. It was far bigger than necessary for dogs or the occasional deer, so Nate guessed it was specially bought for the Wolves. The pack was hovering in the corners, trying to give them as much space as possible without having to leave the room. Nate stood by his sons feet, one hand on his ankle, while Derek remained at his head, the little girl in his arms.

Deaton inspected the wound, touching the edges and – proof that he was clearly spend to much time with werewolves – sniffing at it. He lifted a eyebrow, but said nothing, kept poking at his sons back.

“Allan, I know you love to be mysterious, but I'm a freaked out parent. So, could you please tell me what's going on.” He wanted to make threats. Probably empty ones. But it would feel good to yell at him, promising him he would lose his licence, taking out his gun. It might be a bit much, but after everything he was rather sensitive in relation to his family.

“The wound itself is a clean cut. It didn't hurt anything vital. It should heal quite easily.”

“But...” The sheriff prompted.

“Can I see the knife, please.” The knife. Oh god. Please say that someone brought it with.

Allison pulled out a dark cloth, handing it over.

“Words, Allan.”

“I fear the knife was poisoned. That's why he hasn't healed himself yet.” Okay, that was bad. Poison was bad. Nate had to grab the table in front of him. Around him he could hear low growls.

“I'll make some tests.” He knew the sentence from the hospital. Tests meant find the comfiest plastic chair and spent a ridiculous amount of money on terrible coffee. It meant you will learn how to master power naps and that everything smelled more intense when it's night.

 

So they settled down. They brought Stiles in a different room, in case a real patient showed up. Derek and Tia stayed by the head, petting, touching, taking pain. Deaton had placed a disgusting smelling punk on the open wound. Scott send Jackson and his fiancé back to their hotel, promising to call as soon as something happened. He asked Allison and Lydia to grill Chris about the Knights and ordered Isaac to find the twins to secure the house. After five minutes of staring at nothing in particular he went to help Deaton. Probably for the best.

From time to time Stiles twitched or whimpered. Before Nate was even halfway out of his chair, Derek was already there, taking the pain again and getting paler and paler himself. After an hour he brought him a chair, which the Alpha refused to used for another hour. Stubborn wolf.

“When Stiles had his first cold, I freaked out. Claudia she … she was cool as a ice cube. Told me that baby's get ill too, that she already talked to the doctor and if I don't calm down she would kick me out of the house. She made me buy the cough medicine. When I came back she was crying, yelled at me where the hell I've been.

“His fever got worse. He was so hot and shaking. I couldn't have been away for more than half an hour. Almost broke my neck running up the stairs. And as soon as she saw how panicked I was, she got calm again. I hated it. She always did that. We brought him to the hospital, they drugged him full with antibiotic and god knows what else. 24 hours later he was fine again. As if nothing happened. But in all this time he didn't cried once.

“All the doctors were worried, I almost had an nervous break down and his mother just laughed. She said Stiles would only die because of something really weird and unusual. Like getting hit by a falling piano. Or drowned by a mermaid. She was crazy like that.” Nate swallowed, refusing to look up. He didn't know why he felt the need to tell Derek the story. What made him talk about Claudia without the influence of alcohol.

“Stiles is a lot like her. And I think she was right. After werewolves and demonic foxes and all that sh- stuff, a bit poison won't bring him down.”

“He has a lot from you, too.” Derek whispered back.

 

 

“ _Ow! Ow! Ow!”_

“ _Oh, don't be such a baby.” Belle scolded._

“ _What do you want me do say instead? Tis but a scratch?” He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look any longer at the deep claw marks on his chest._

“ _For example. You had worse.”_

“ _Yeah, and I bitched worse about those. It hurts!”_

“ _I know.” Her suddenly soft voice made him open his eyes again. Belle sat in front of him, hands and towel drenched in his blood. The swing was meant for her. Only the claws wouldn't have torn her chest, but her throat. She was standing there, knifes god knows where, trying to keep the younger wolf away from her while simultaneously searching for any sort of weapon. She didn't saw it coming. And Stiles already saw her lying on the ground. He acted on instinct. It was incredible stupid, just throwing himself between her and the omega. Without his magic. Without even thinking to simply create a shield around her._

_The fight was then over pretty quickly. Belle falling to her knees, taking the spare knife from his left boot, before throwing herself up and against the smaller one. It took her not longer than a few two or three seconds. Her jump making space for Stiles to take a step back, swing his bat, hitting the other ones head like he wanted to. With both wolves on the ground it was easy._

_And only when_ the Twins _finished their own fight, walking over to get rid of the last two body’s, his legs gave out. He didn't lost his consciousness, but no matter how hard they trained or how strong his spark was, blood loss was blood loss and damn the wolf got his claws in deep._

_Belle brought him 'home', while the others cleaned up._

“ _Stupid Werewolves. And why don't you have some super pain sucking powers?” It got him at least a small smile._

“ _Why would I want to feel someone else pain?”_

“ _Yeah, because you're a self-centred, ungrateful bitch.”_

“ _That I am. Want me to rub a bit salt in those wounds, too?”_

“ _Only if you decided to go on a diet and don't want brownies for dessert.” She laughed and kept cleaning. It took her longer than usual. But before he could mock her, she cried out pushing him to lie down._

“ _Why doesn't it stop bleeding?” All of sudden her walls were down. Big green eyes swimming in tears. That wasn't his Isabelle._

“ _Hey, it's okay. The cut's are deep, that's all. Just make the bandage nice tight. I try to heal it in a bit. Right now I'm still to woozy.” He took one of her hands, squeezing it. That seemed to calm her down some, but not completely._

“ _It's not your fault, you know that, right? That was just me being stupid. Of all the things I could have done, I jump in front of a very pissed of werewolf. I mean, I'm a spark for gods sake.”_

“ _You did it because you love me.” Somehow she managed it to sound equally parts awed and arrogant._

“ _Of course I love you. You're my Unicorn. Very rare, extreme beautiful, incredible strong and you kill virgins for fun. Phew, so glad I'm covered on that front.” And finally – finally – she laughed again. Finishing the bandage, she sat up, brushing hair out of his forehead._

“ _And for that I get salted caramel brownies for dessert!”_

“ _Of course.”_

“ _Good. Now sleep. I don't want you to run around, bleeding all over the kitchen later.” Yeah, he would sleep a bit. And then he would heal himself, making sure to not leave scars behind. Because he knew every time she would see them, she would feel guilty again._

_Some time ago, she declared him family. The only family she had left. And as annoying as she could be (because he never was), he wouldn't want to hurt her._

“ _Stiles?” She paused at the doorway, looking back over her shoulder._

“ _Hmm?”_

“ _I would die for you, too.”_

 

Stiles woke up and expected her to be there. Standing next to bed – or table, it really didn't feel like a bed – and bitching what a delicate flower he was and if he ever scared her like that again she would kill him herself.

She wasn't there. Derek, Tia, his father were. Pain between his shoulders and in his chest. It was to bright, to uncomfortable. All he wanted to do was fall back asleep. Or unconscious. He wasn't exactly picky at the moment.

“Stiles! How are you feeling?” His Dad asked. Voice thick with worry and rough from … probably lack of using and sleep deprivation. How long was he out?

“Hurt. Tired.” Fighting a battle with himself. He was so tired, he just wanted to sleep. But he had questions. Of course he had questions. Should he ask? Which first?

“How long -?”

“A few hours.” He comb his hand through Stiles hair. Just like he always did when he was a kid.

“What?” God, his mouth felt like a desert.

“The knife that hid you was poisoned.” Derek spoke up. He sounded like his father, worried and rough.

“It took Deaton a while to identify it and mix a antidote.”

“Can you heal yourself? Like you did when you were shot?” Good idea.

“Mhmm. Later. To beat. Sleep. Both of you.” With that he closed his eyes again, hoping they would rest some and leave him alone. Derek would know that he didn't sleep, but he needed to think. At least a bit.

Belle would show up soon and he needed to know what to do. It was her knife, yes. But that didn't mean it was really her. It could have been anyone. Even if nobody was allowed to touch her stuff. Not even Stiles. She wouldn't let anybody take her knifes. Not by choice and she didn't used any of their code-words in the last call. So she had to be alright. And even if poison wasn't her usual style, she knew as well as the other Knights how strong his spark was.

But, they were family. She wouldn't do that to family. Not to him. He would not believe she was trying to kill him. She was his big sister. It was them against the world. She wouldn't. She couldn't. He just needed to proof it. Because the pack – they didn't know her. They would need proof.

His head was pounding and the cold of the steel table crept slowly through the blankets and in his bones. A new hand appeared on his forehead. Big, warm, gentle.

“Sleep, Stiles.” The pain suddenly stopped and Dereks voice was the last he heard before doing as he was told.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo... I'm a bit, uh, not exactly scared but maybe .. nervous to ask. You know I have a [tumblr](http://mostpeoplethinkiburnhot.tumblr.com/) right? And I know I don't talk much, but I'm nice. Really! Anyway, I just wanted to say that if you have ideas or promts for me (you're still reading the story so I guess my writing isn't that bad) I would be more than happy to get them. Don't be shy - I don't bite (only howl).


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lectures, studying, work - I'm a zombie.

He felt shaky and tired. The Stilinskis were probably both right (it had to be a family trait). He took to much of Stiles pain and was desperately in need of sleep. But he still wasn't capable of listening to either of them.

His wolf paced along his consciousness like a caged animal, waiting for a chance to get out. It scratched at his walls and whined quietly, hurting, wanting to help his mate more. There was just nothing he could do. The pack were home. Nate and Tia sleeping on the chairs, a blanket thrown over them. Deaton had found a antitoxin and Stiles simply had to sleep it out, restoring his energy. Everything was as good as it was possible in their current situation.

But he needed him awake. Awake and safe, telling him that all was good. Besides, who would keep watch if he curled himself around Stiles?

 

With enough time to think, he came to the conclusion that Stiles knew more than he told them. Which, okay, Derek had that feeling ever since the boy came back. And he understood that Stiles didn't want to talk to much about the Knights.

But the feeling grew stronger ever since the first assault. Stiles was connecting dots, figuring everything out, running into walls on his way to the answer without telling. It hurt a bit. Knowing that Stiles thought he had to fight this alone.

The last two years had changed him. Had changed them all. And by the look of it for the better. Derek started to trust more people, letting his guard down around the pack and was 'using his words'. Stiles in turn talked less. Mostly because he finally had a functional brain-to-mouth filter (well, almost). But his training had also made him more secretive. It would take time to get used to it.

“Hey big guy.” A voice tearing him out of his brooding.

“Stiles! Hi.” Both managed to smile sappy at each other.

“How are you?”

“Shouldn't I be the one to ask that?”

“Meh, I'm fine. You look like you haven't slept in days, though.”

“Couldn't.” Stiles patted his arm as if he knew, as if he understood. He probably did.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost 24 hours.”

“Well, that explains why my ass is numb. You couldn't let me recover in an actual bed, couldn't you?” Derek chuckled. Of course he had to complain first thing after getting almost killed.

“We wanted to keep an eye on you. Just in case.”

“Just in case the poison was more of a bitch than you thought?”

“Yeah.” He didn't want to think about it, that he could have lost him. They just got him back. There was finally the possibility of being more between them. Stiles sensed his change in mood and grabbed his arm again.

“Hey. I promised several people not to die before I'm 90!” Lie.

“So, no chance of getting rid of me already. Nor help me up. I need someone to take the stitches out so I can heal properly.”

Being a good Alpha he did as he was told, got rid of Stiles shirt, ignored the fluttering in his stomach at feeling his skin under his hands. With his claws he carefully picked the lose threads out. Afterwards he watched in awe how the slender would disappeared, leaving only a capillary scar in its wake.

As a werewolf he saw instant healing on a daily basis, but no matter how much Stiles had changed, he was still human. His marked skin prove of it.

“Good boy.” Smiling broadly at Dereks snort.

“Take me home and give me food? I have some research to do.” Home meant his house in the woods Derek realised. Shoving him in a mix of feelings he couldn't hope to ever describe. Something plopped in his chest, filling him with warmth and busy ants. He tried to get at least his face back under control, and maybe his brain to work again.

It didn't work exactly the was he had planed it, but exactly the way he needed it. Letting his wolf take over for a second he surged forward. Grabbing Stiles face with both hands he kissed him. Smiling against his mates smile.

 

Even though Stiles said he was fine, Nate and Deaton insisted on a quick check up. Derek shared their qualms, but given the glare the boy send them, he thought it was better not to mention it. In the end it took an hour before Stiles could throw himself on Dereks couch, his little girl on his lap. With closed eyes he waved his right arm in the direction he suspected them to stand, making the werewolf grin.

“Now, somebody bring me some food and my laptop.” He nuzzled Tias cheek, before sitting up straight with a jolt, making everyone stop in their tracks.

“When was the last time you guys have eaten?” Honestly, Derek had no idea. But now that the was asked his stomach started to growl and twisted painfully. He knew that at some point Scott came over, bringing some sandwiches, which he apparently didn't ate.

“I'm calling for Pizza. Might be a bit early, but -. It's never to early for Pizza. Any wishes?” The sheriff rummaged for his mobile.

“Extra cheese. And whatever you get – not a single piece of pineapple!”

“But you like pineapple.” Nate wondered.

“I do. She doesn't.” With a shrug the Sheriff went back in the kitchen, while Derek run upstairs to get the laptop.

 

“So.” He started when he flopped down next to the boy.

“So?” Stiles repeated.

“What can I do to help?” Derek was _not_ watching fascinated as Stiles bit his lower lip.

“Two things. Trust me and don't freak out.” That was so not reassuring. It sounded more like a catastrophe to happen. Or like one of Stiles bad plans. What, in the end, was the same.

“I do trust you.” But he couldn't promise not to get angry or worried. Mostly he was already worried.

“Okay. It's going to sound bad. Like really bad. But I want you to listen till I'm finished.” He waited for Dereks nod before he took a deep breath and started.

“The dagger belonged to Belle.” That was all he could hear. He knew his eyes were red and he had to fight the wolf down. She was his friend! How could she betray him like that? Why would she want to kill him? Why asking if she could come by, offering help if she was already here, ready to hurt him? H wanted to hunt her, hurt her, sink his claws in her skin until she stopped moving.

“Derek! Calm down! I'm not finished. Don't go and kill her yet.”

It took more strength than he liked to admit to get his control back. But finally he nodded, signalling Stiles to continue.

“It was hers, but! I trust her. I'm her family. The only one she has left. She wouldn't do that to me. Secondly – Poison isn't her style. At all. Third – She's a way better shot than that. She wouldn't have missed. There is so much that doesn't fit. She would never hurt a kid. She knows how strong my spark is. She could have killed me up close because I wouldn't run from her. She has no reason to want my death!

“But I know you all need more proof than that. That's why I want to look up truth spells. Belle will be here soon. And Derek, please don't attack her. I want you to trust me that I can handle that.”

“Fine.” He gritted out. Because he wanted to believe that, too. That she didn't betrayed him.

“But I'm not leaving her alone with you until we now the truth.” At that Stiles smiled at him, all soft and warm and Derek just wanted to drown in him. Instead he leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on his soft lips, tracing the light blush on his cheeks with his thump.

“Go to work.”

“Bossy.” Stiles grinned, but booted his laptop.

 

“Stiles?” He asked after a while of furiously tipping and frowning.

“Mhm?”

“Why did you tell me? About Belle.” Somehow, he wasn't sure how, he expected a disappointing answer, maybe even hurtful.

“Because I wanted to talk to her about it anyway. And I don't wanted you to find out that way. And I guess I was just tired of lying to my family.” He couldn't hold the small, pleased smile back at those words. It turned into a smirk when the boy bumped their shoulders together.

“Doesn't mean I won't need some ass kicking in the future. Same like you. So how about we try not to get to mad at each other for failing to use words?”

“Sounds good.” Pretty good. It sounded like a future together.

 

 

Tia was troubled. There was so much going on right now. Stuff she couldn't understand. She was scared and worried and just wished everything was over. Maybe not all. Some pretty cool things happened since Stiles found her.

For one, she had Stiles now. And she would never leave him. Sometimes she liked to think of him as her Daddy. She probably shouldn't do that, because she already had a Dad. But Stiles was so much cooler and sweeter. He cuddled and kissed her. He told her stories and made her favourite food. She wasn't scared of him. Never would. He didn't yell at her, he didn't beat her. And she knew she would always be safe with him. He smelled like home and love, in a way her real Dad never had.

When she thought about it, she felt guilty. Because she knew, she should miss her family, be sad that they were gone. But she wasn't. And she already had a new family. One that loved her, brought her presents and played with her. Nobody was mean to her, nobody forced her to talk or told her to stop doing something. Sure they were weird sometimes and she didn't trust them completely already. But she would. When all were together they were loud and they laughed a lot. She liked it.

From her new pack she liked Derek best. He looked big and scary but he was really nice. Almost as sweet as Stiles. And Stiles liked him best too. And Derek liked Stiles. And if Stiles would keep her, than maybe she had to Daddys and that sounded amazing. Derek had strong arms and he held her tight in his arms so she wouldn't be scared when Stiles couldn't hold her. He taught her stuff about werewolves, how to change and what anchors were. He cuddled with her when they watched Disney movies. And somehow she knew that he would protect her just like Stiles would.

Those were the things she wanted to keep. The things she liked. But someone wanted to hurt Stiles and it scared her. She didn't know why. Nobody was talking about it. He was already hurt twice and he was so worried when they tried to hurt her. Secretly she was pleased about that. That he loved her enough to be so worried. She felt guilty about that too. But then he nuzzled her cheek and it would be okay.

Only right now, she was terrified. Stiles wouldn't wake up, he was pale and in pain and Derek was scared. Just like Stiles Daddy. She wanted to hug and cuddle with him, but Derek wouldn't let her down. She felt save in his arms, but she wanted to Stiles. And when he woke up, she was asleep. They woke her before finally going home and Stiles made grabby hand at her. He pulled her in a hug and haven't let go since.

Whoever wanted to hurt him, she wanted them gone. She wanted all of this to stop. She didn't want to be scared anymore. Because losing Stiles would be the worst. He was her anchor and Derek told her what could happen if you lose your anchor. Besides than she would be alone again. And Stiles promised her that she would never be alone again, that he would always be there for her. And maybe one day she could be his daughter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I want to give you a hug. All of you! Because you're amazing! I love all of you. All those likes and comments? It's awesome! Those things keep me going. 
> 
> Oh! I almost forgot. As a little "I'm sorry!" I have a (sort of) sneak peak of a possible new fic for you. Hope you like the idea. [Mentally Unstable](http://mostpeoplethinkiburnhot.tumblr.com/post/99473075269/sneak-peak-mentally-unstable)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go - Firefly quotes, Derek being cute, Jackson bamf and Peter has a death wish. Sigh.

Stiles was annoyed. Like, you know, terrible annoyed. Google used to be his bitch, but now?

“Argh. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” God, he wanted to climb in the first car he found and drive back to his damn library. He knew he should have scanned everything and put it into a cloud or something. Or looked for a spell that gave him a photographic memory. Okay, fine, maybe he had already looked for that specific spell and found nothing. Again. And he wasn't sure if a cloud was safe enough for that kind of information. So... maybe safe it on a tiny, tiny chip and implant it into his hip? And cut his skin open every time he needed to look at the bestiary? Ewww, no!

Well then, a cloud it was. Danny had to help him make it as safe as human possible. And it wasn't only useful, it was a responsible thing to do as well. It was as if the Knights never heard of a house fire. All the information would be gone. (That was a lie. The whole room was warded to insanity. A meteor could crash on the house and the library wouldn't get a single scratch.)

“No one's gonna eat you, Stiles.” Derek walked into the room, a long gone cold slice of pizza in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. Gaping was unattractive, he knew that, but Stiles brain was sort of stuck and he couldn't stop. By the time Derek sat again next to him, the cup now in his own hands (and there was no reason to eye his hold so suspiciously. You don't spill coffee and if it costs you your hands!) his heart was beating unnecessarily fast.

“Tell me I'm pretty.” Derek lifted a brow but grinned.

“Were I unwed I would take you in a manly fashion.”

“'Cause I'm pretty?”

“'Cause you're pretty.”

“Oh my God!” He very, very carefully placed the coffee on the table, leant over and took the alphas face in booth his hands.

“I'm keeping you. You're never getting rid of me. Ever.” No, but really, how could he have not kissed Derek for that. And if, after the 'You're amazing I adore you' kiss, they kissed a bit more that was perfectly fine. Or so he thought.

“Eww, Mate! There are kids present.” Wearing a more smug than horrified expression, Jackson stood in the doorway. Unfortunately he was right.

At some point Tia got her colour books and placed herself on the floor, her shoulder pressing into Stiles leg to keep at least some contact. That was of course before he crawled into Dereks lap. Now she twisted herself around, a orange pencil in her right hand, a blue one in her left, looking … pleased. What six year old kid looks pleased watching two grown ups make out? He really needed to have a serious talk about her family. On the other hand, maybe she was just happy that they were together? Right, yesterday she was happy, too. Laughing and jumping. And while he was making sticky-notes in his head – he should Deaton ask what poison was on the knife. It definitely had done something to his brain. Maybe. Maybe it was just stress. One way or another his little girl was okay with it.

“I think she's fine.” He replied.

“Yeah, and what about me?”

“You're a kid?”

“For some people.” With that he turned and walked outside. Stiles waited a few moments, head on Dereks shoulder before he spoke again.

“Why don't you talk to Jackson for a bit.” Not that he really cared if Derek chatted with Jackson or if he did something else, he just wanted some time with Tia. Alone. Or as alone it gets in a house full of werewolves. Said wolf mustered him deliberative, clearly not wanting to leave his side to long. But eventually he nodded, placing a kiss on Tias and his forehead and made his way out.

 

There was no easy way to do this. Stiles held his breath and counted to 10 before patting on the sofa next to him.

“Come up, there's something I want to talk about.” Honestly, he'd rather fight with a bunch of ghouls than go through with this. But he had to. There was no way 'round. So he smiled at the girl, trying to debilitate her unease.

“It's nothing bad. I just want to ask you some things.” He pulled her in his lap, nuzzling her cheek.

“And I want you to know, that, no matter what, you can always say 'no'. To everything. Okay? I promise I will not be mad or angry or anything else. Everything your choice.” The shoulders under his hands didn't relax like he hoped they would. It made him hesitate. Maybe he should wait a bit longer. Till the whole mess was over and Tia had time to acclimatise. She was still wearing the same dark green, long sleeve dress she wore yesterday. The picture of a small fox on the middle of her chest, looking up at the necklace she got from Jackson. Her hair the way she liked it best. Open with one thin strand braided. No, it was better go get over it now.

“Promise me to say no if you don't want something.” It was important to him. For her. That she knew she could say no, that she didn't say yes because she thought she had to. Tia nodded, but her hands tightened in his shirt.

“Good. Uhm, do you like staying with me?” A nod.

“Do you like the pack?” He continued before she could answer.

“Or better, do you think you could like them if you know them better?” Another nod.

“Do you … do you want to stay with us? With me?” A third nod, more forcefully this time. He was scared. Scared for her next answer. And she had to know, because she was still looking up at him like a kicked puppy.

“Would you like m-me to adopt you? That I would be your father. Well, not your real father. Like one. Not the one you had. I don't want to replace him. And you wouldn't have to call me that. You could of course. But you don't have to. Just, that you could stay, that nobody can take you away. I mean, as long as you want to. And - “ Gods, a kingdom for a shovel! Why was he so bad at this?

When her hands vanished from his chest he finally cast his eyes down. Tears silently rolling down her red face, making his heart clench. She didn't want to. God. Forget the shovel, somebody bring him to a cliff.

“You don't have to! At least not with me. You could stay with somebody else. Anybody. I'm sure Derek would love to take you in.” She would get what she wanted. Even if it broke his heart. He killed her parents, he would stop the world from turning if she asked him to. He owed her. But she just shook her head.

“Not Derek?” No.

“Somebody else?” No again. But who - ?

“Me?” Breathing was overrated. Not that he had to wait long. She almost instantly nodded, still crying but burring her face in his neck, arms thrown around it was well.

“You want me to adopt you?” He had to be sure. 100 percent sure she meant him. She nodded and Stiles felt … like somebody hit him with a brick but in a good way. If that was possible. His arms tighten around her, nose in her hair. What was impossible was to feel so damn happy.

“Okay. I will make sure you can stay with me. Nobody will ever take you away. I promise!”

 

 

Derek wasn't listening in. He was not! He was keeping an ear out for Belle and while doing that he couldn't help but hear other things as well. They weren't exactly whispering.

But it reminded him to be careful. Stiles was so used to rejection, even now that the grown into his limps and could kill a werewolf in his sleep. He was confident most of the times, especially when everyone else would cower and try not to breathe. He knew that he was good in what he did. And yet, when it came to himself, to feelings, he was easily scared. Time had build walls and when he opened up the gates, more often than not, it left scars. He knew that Stiles trusted him, gave him the same golden key to his heart that Scott and his Dad owned.

But Derek had his own defensive fortification and claws barley bothered with little scratches. They wouldn't hurt each other wilfully. Only when both their temper got out of control that wouldn't mean much. Stiles words could cut deeper than any scalpel. And Derek knew he could be colder than an iceberg. They had the ability to destroy each other and they would fall as one. Because losing Stiles, one way or another, would break him.

“It might be weird coming from me” Jackson spoke up out of the blue.

“but Stiles is important to me. So I don't care if it's my job to look after him or not. We have our own psychotic murderer overseas. And I learned a thing or two from them. If you break his heart, I would swim here to proof it on you.” The wolf flickered his eyes shortly at him before looking back at the forest, hands in his jeans pockets. He meant every word of it. Derek considered telling him that that wasn't necessary, that alone the thought of losing Stiles, pushing him away made his chest hurt so much he couldn't breathe. But confessing that would change nothing. It was more a information about a threat to come than a threat itself. If something went wrong, Jackson would be on Stiles side. And he would do anything to make him feel better. Mostly Derek was proud, glad that Stiles had such friends. That didn't mean he would underestimate him. So he acknowledged him with a sharp nod.

A oncoming car thankfully prevented any awkward silences. He didn't recognise the smell, only that whoever it was, didn't came from Bacon Hills. Considering they were waiting for someone, it was an easy guess. Knowing Stiles he quickly made his way back inside. Almost getting killed wouldn't stop him from running outside to greet her.

“Belle should be here. Stay put!” Derek growled over his shoulder in the living room.

“The hell I will. You look like you want to rip somebody's throat out. If you open the door like that she probably pepper-spray you or something.”

“It doesn't work on werewolves.”

“Yes it does. Only for a few seconds, but it's enough to make you blink and get stabbed.”

“So she wants to stab me now?”

“Knee-jerk reaction?” Somehow Stiles managed to squeeze himself through the gap between Derek and the door, just as the car stopped in front of the house. The boy obviously was best friends with 'the right moment'. There was no other explanation for his, sometimes scary accurate, timing.

“BELLE!!!” Stiles yelled, already trying to run towards the pretty girl. He was right when he said she had the greenest eyes ever. Luckily Dereks werewolf reflexes still worked and he packed him at the scruff of his neck, almost making him fall backwards. Even if Belle wasn't a possible killer, after yesterday Stiles would not leave the house without a full body armour.

“Little one!” She lit up like a Christmas tree, smiling so hard her cheeks had to hurt. Around her neck hung a loose and soft looking leather collar. Dereks stomach turned at the thought that Stiles had to wear something like that as well. That they hurt him with it, force him to abandon his family. If Belle still had hers, then maybe they forced her to turn against Stiles.

As she came nearer Derek started to growl, pushing Stiles behind him. He promised not to kill her, but until this was resolved she would not touch him. No matter how much Stiles bitched. Letting his eyes roam over the forest he made a decision.

“Lets go inside.” If it wasn't her there was no point in making a target for someone else.

Jackson waited with Tia in the living room. And the others were just one phone call away.

“Sit.” He growled.

“Oh, come on, Derek. I told you.” Stiles full out whined.

“She's here, isn't she?”

“Stiles, what is going on?” It made the boy grin, that Jackson and Belle asked simultaneously. If he could still smile, he wasn't mad enough to 'accidentally' hex him. Of course Peter thought it was a good idea to sounder back into the house. After Stiles had cursed him a little bit, he wisely kept his distance. At least for a while.

“Ah, you must be Belle. Nice to meet you.” He smiled pleasantly at her before facing Derek.

“So she's the one who wants to kill Stiles?” Yeah, his uncle would probably never learn it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, not much of Belle in this chapter, but I promise in the next one she will talk. :)


	25. Chapter 25

You could say that Belle was surprised. Or you could say that she was shell shocked. Because seriously??! How could this.. this wolf even think she would do anything to her little brother? She wouldn't do that. Never. And at least Stiles had to know that.

The wolf next to her, Jackson, she knew him from pictures on Stiles laptop, tighten his hold on the girl in his lap, scoot away from her. It wasn't supposed to hurt. That the people Stiles loved most, his friends, thought she would do that. As a Knight she was used to rejection. They weren't exactly popular in the supernatural-world. Or any world, really. Because they wouldn't choose a side, because they would go against anyone who broke the law. But that was okay, she didn't want to be worshipped. Grateful eyes after saving someone was more than enough. That was what she lived for, what gave her a purpose. But for her family she would give it all up. And Stiles was her entirely family.

“No! No, she isn't. Goddess, I though you would have learnt already not to go against me.” Stiles fret, only to get tsked by the older one.

“I could never disappoint you like that.”

“Stiles.” Tall, dark and gorgeous interfered. That had to be Derek.

“You don't know that.” Excuse you? Of course he could. And apparently he thought so too, because Stiles threw his hands up.

“Yes I do!” He sighed and walked over, putting a hand on the alphas cheek. Huh, that was new.

“Derek, you promised to trust me on this. She wouldn't do that to me. We will prove it, okay.”

“Okay. But until then, nether you or Tia will be alone with her.”

“Just like I promised you.” Stiles pecked him on the lips before turning into his leader mode.

“You!” He pointed at the rude wolf.

“Leave. Before I turn you into a hamster and feed you to the first snake I see.” It was one of his more ridiculous threats, but it wasn't as if he didn't try it already. Luckily the wolf left.

“Jackson, could you please go to Deaton? He will know why.” Jackson grumbled but left also. He placed the girl in Stiles arms and glared at Derek in a way that practically screamed 'Keep them save or I kill you'.

 

She waited until they were alone for a few moments before starting to yell. Or, you know, as alone as she was allowed be with Stiles.

“What the fluff is going on?” Livid or not, you don't swear in front of a kid.

“Calm down, Belle.”

“I will not calm down! Everybody thinks I want to kill you. Fluff calm!” Stiles snickered, looking up at her trough his lashes.

“You know I can't take you serious if you try to swear like that. Sit down, and I will tell you.” With a irritated sigh, she let herself fall back on the couch, crossing her arms.

“Spill.”

“You remember that I told you somebody else is after me? The last time they used one of your knifes.”

“Wha - No. I – They -”

“I asked Deaton to find me a better truth spell.” The first one was just a huge shock. But that? That hurt. And it must have shown on her face.

“No, Belle.” Stiles leant forwards as if he wanted to touch her, hug her, something. Only to got held back. He gave Derek an annoyed glance but didn't try harder.

“I know you didn't do it. I know you would never hurt me. I trust you wholeheartedly. And my pack trusts me. But I understand that they need more prove than my word. They – we all got betrayed by people we trusted more than enough. That makes us very careful and maybe a bit paranoid, but if that means that the pack is safe, it's more than okay.

“We already lost friends. We almost lost every single one of the pack. And with me being in imminent danger, we can't risk that. They need more than just my word. And you and I both know how to lie a werewolf straight to the face. But I don't want to hurt you. That's why I was looking for another spell.”

She remembered the stories he told her. About the hunter who burnt down a house, the darach, controlled kanimas, the alpha pack and everyone playing their own mind game. Stiles never used names, she didn't know who did what to whom. He only broke that habit when he told her about the nogitsune. Told her what he did to his pack, how he played them, how he hurt them. She remembered the nights when he woke up from nightmares, screaming, crying and unable to fall back asleep. How she hold him until he could breathe again, stop the tears from falling.

She knew how afraid he was. Of loosing himself like that again, of hurting, betraying his pack, the ones he loved. And as much as he trusted her, he needed the prove just as much as the werewolves.

“Goddess, haven't you learnt anything? Every truth-spell hurts. You force the answer out. No matter which you use, it always hurts. So get over with it. I really don't like waiting for pain. And if I don't get to hug you in the next 24 hours I will punch someone.” It was the closest she could get to reveal her feelings with a stranger around. It was worth the smile she got from her little brother.

But Derek kept scowling.

“If it wasn't you, how did they get your knifes?” It was a good question.

“I don't know. I still had all when I left. And nobody could get to them on my way here. Nobody – oh Goddess.”

“What?”

“I got new ones. About two months ago. The pretty ones, I told you about.”

“... What did you do to the old ones?”

“They weren't broken or anything. So. Same as we do with all old but functional weapons. Put them in the weapon room.”

“The one with the ironical broken lock? Where everyone can simply go in and out as they wish?”

“Uh, yeah, that one.”

“You have a unlocked, unguarded weapon room?” Derek rose a brow.

“Well, usually somebody's there. And if all us leave the whole house is locked down.”

“Derek.” Stiles put a hand on the alphas shoulder.

“Anybody could have gone in there.”

“Because nobody could have picked the lock.”

“That's not the point. They held you hostage, they forced you to make enemies and they kept you in a unsecured house. They put you in danger.”

“Being in a werewolf pack is dangerous. Living in Beacon Hills is dangerous. Being the Sheriffs kid is dangerous. That house was safe. Just because the room wasn't locked doesn't mean anybody could just walk in. There were wards all over. Only people with permission could cross the property.”

“Which just means that it isn't another party but the Knights who wants to kill you. Or maybe really her, because it was her knife.” Belle really didn't want to witness this particular shouting match. She squirmed in her seat, pretending not to be there.

“Not everyone who's allowed is a Knight. Derek, look. I know you're worried. But that's what the truth-spell is for. So we know one thing more for sure. We figure this out. We always do.”

“And I'm always waiting for the day we don't.” It could only get sappier from here. Best to steer the conversation in a safer direction. Uhm, safe... something safe...

“I have Wolf in the trunk.” Stiles head spun around, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Really? Oh my Goddess! How did you get it back?” She shrugged.

“They brought it back. Along with the bo-, uh, twins.”

“Oh, Awesome!” A hand appeared on his shoulder before he could even jump up. Concerned eyes looking down at him.

“You're not going out.”

“It's like five meters, nothing is going to happen.”

“You're not going out. You're not going to stay with her alone.” Great, this was going to be a hell of a long day.

 

 

“Jacky!”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Nah, you love it. What's up.” Stiles clamps the phone between shoulder and ear and started to play with Tias hair. Braiding and loosening it again, caring his fingers through the strands. Smiling fondly at her low purr.

“Deaton says there is no painless truth-spell.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why did I have to ask.” His voice flat and annoyed.

“Because.”

“Urgh. He found one. Gave me everything you need. I'm heading back. Call your pack. They need to be there.”

“Okay dokey. Hey, what do you think about pecan pie for dessert?”It took Jackson a while to answer, and when he did, he sounded hesitant.

“Uh, sounds good.”

“Dude, I make a mean pecan pie. You'll love it.”

“Sure. Whatever.” It made Stiles grin wolfishly, even though Jackson simply hung up on him.

“It's his favourite.” He explained even though nobody asked, while sending a text to Scott.

**To: True Puppy**

“ _Be an Alpha. Need the pack at Dereks. Bring pecans & ice cream_”

**From: True Puppy**

“ _K. What do u need the nuts for?_ ”

**To: True Puppy**

“ _All the jokes, scotty, all the jokes. And pie_ ”

“So?” Belle asked, leaning forward.

“So, I'm going to make dinner. Then we'll poke you a bit with a stick. Or whatever Jackson brings back. And then we gonna eat. You wanna help me cook, baby girl?” She had waited for that question, she always did. In an instant she was back at his side, giving him a small but happy smile. A wave of affection rolled over him, and he had to pick her up, hold her tight and nuzzle her neck before he could walk to the kitchen. There was no way he would survive giving her up. In this short time they knew each other, she became the most important part in his life. She was his daughter. End of discussion. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. And if that meant to leave again, he would do it. Sure, it would break his heart, but … he would do it.

He sat her down on one of the barstools, placing a kiss on her temple before walking over to the fridge. Tia was happy, Derek and Belle were talking, the pack would be here soon. Disregarding that someone wanted him dead, he was perfectly happy. Well, almost.

Without werewolf super hearing he had so strain himself to understand what his boyfriend (?) and big sister had to say.

“How come he has a kid?” 'Course she would be hung up on that. Derek didn't reply for a long time and Stiles was certain he glared at her.

“He showed up with her.”

“Now that's informative. Who is she then?” A pause again. Seriously, that guy was so predictable.

“She's from one of the packs you were fighting. Stiles – he found her. Kept her safe.”

“Whilst running from the Knights. Only Stiles.”

“From you.” Dereks growl send a shiver down his spine. He tried to explain to him how the Knights worked, their code, but. The wolf didn't want to understand, he only saw a group of ruthless people who took him away and hurt him. It was just, Stiles liked being _Little Red_. He wanted to stay a Knight.

“No. I could never hurt him. That's why they left me behind, because they all know I would always chose Stiles over them. He's my family.” For a second he wondered how often she had to repeat it, before others would believe it. Then something caught his eye. Just a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye. He leaned over the sink, staring into the woods.

“Derek!” The alpha was in the kitchen before he could close his mouth, scanning the room in a panic.

“I think someone's here. Not pack.” Derek pulled him away from the widow, shoulders tense and snarling. It was clear to Stiles that he wanted to run out, hunt down whoever was there. Probably ending it in a lot of blood. But more than that, he couldn't leave Stiles and Tia alone. Not if he still thought Belle could be one of them.

“The others will be here soon.” Derek nodded, but reached for his mobile, calling someone.

“Hurry up. They're here.” He didn't bother to explain more, simply swooped Tia up, wrapped his arm around Stiles and manoeuvred them back to the couch. Keeping them close, and never took his eyes from Belle.

“You said you had a suspicion.” He growled. That was true. Stiles bit his lip.

“And what if I'm wrong?”

“Who!” Still. What if he was wrong?

“The twins were married.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long. Anyway, if you have questions, like "What is it with... ?" or "Can you tell me more about.." or whatever I'll be happy to answer them. Here or on [my tumblr](http://mostpeoplethinkiburnhot.tumblr.com/)
> 
> No, I wanted to ask something else. Uh, what do you think of a ficlet advent calendar?


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!!
> 
> I didn't forget you guys, just, you know, real life. Work, College, Christmas, wisdom tooth, finals are starting in three days (hysterical laughter).   
> Anyway. I wanted to put the 'sexy times' in this chapter, but it already took me long enough, so... next one. 
> 
> Have a great time! See you (hopefully) soon ♥

It is concerning that all colour drowns out of Belles face, Stiles scooting uncomfortable in his seat.

“So you think they're going for revenge?”

“She.” Stiles murmurs.

“What?”

“Only one spouse. They were both married to the same woman.” Derek just blinks. His face was blank and … what?

“Well, technically only one was legally married to her. But they had the same rings and .. yeah, I never really wanted to know how exactly it worked. Or anything at all, really.”

“It makes sense.” Belle thankfully ignores the, uh, bohemianism of the Twins and goes back to the topic on hand.

“She thinks Stiles killed her .. husbands. An eye for an eye and all that.”

“And-” The boy continued.

“she's no Knight. But of course she could come to the house whenever.”

“Lets say it's her, why are your oh so great Knight not doing anything?”

“Quit the shit. The Knights aren't so bad.”

“No, they just think it's fine to kill a little girl.” He loved to say that it was immoral to kill Stiles as well, but he was fine with Kate's death. Glass houses and stones. So he just thought it. That was the thing about revenge. Somebody always was left behind. A circle with with no exit. The only end to it was to let go. Derek wasn't sure he could if somebody killed Stiles. After loosing everything over and over again, he didn't thought he would be able to drag himself out next time. Not without Stiles.

“They're not fine with it.”

“Then why is she still out there?”

“She does the work for them.” Was it really that easy for them?

“Yeah, they're really not so bad.”

“Stop it.” Stiles was far past annoyed, then again Derek was anything but calm as well.

“No. They took you. They hurt you. Now they want to kill you.”

“They saved me!” It was a stab in his hear all over again. Knowing that a bunch of hunters could do what his pack couldn't. And if they couldn't help him, if they weren't enough, who said Stiles wouldn't leave at some point again? Deciding that he needed more, needed better. Just packing Tia and some clothes and vanish. Not today or tomorrow, but maybe in a few months or a year. With the though alone Dereks chest compressed and his heart … Stiles wouldn't leave immediately, he wouldn't do that to his Dad, to Derek. But if they weren't enough in the first place, how could they be enough later on?

“Derek.” Stiles voice was soft, the hand on his arm careful.

“I'm not saying I wanted that. I'm not saying you couldn't heal me. You're my pack, my family. Of course you would have helped me. If I had the choice I would have never left. At least not like that. Maybe I would have annoyed you into a summer road trip with me. But I never wanted to leave. I never wanted help from somebody else.

“But it happened. They took me in, and it was a good thing. Not the best, but good. I learnt so much. I found Belle and Tia. And I wouldn’t want to give them up again. But – now listen carefully, that is important – no matter what happen, I will always – always! - come back. Okay?” Stiles sounded so damn earnest and Derek wanted to pull him in his arms, hold him for hours, but the ache was still there. He believed Stiles, always would, his feelings were all over the place though.

“Okay.” He nodded, keeping his face blank, even as Stiles misery and guilt hit him.

Again, he wanted to hug him. His arms itched and it took way to much control to keep them by his side. Stiles had nothing to feel guilty about. He would make it up to him later, when they were mostly alone, when Belle was proved innocent or locked up.

Derek squeezed his hand, just to show he wasn't angry. That they would cuddle and make up. Later. Maybe even really talk about it. And the boy got it, like he always did.

 

“You two are disgusting.” Jackson sauntered in, followed by the rest of the pack and his fiancé.

“Since we all agree on that, can you please tell my why I had to bring you something that smells like four weeks old eggs and duck dung?”

“Oh Jackson, that's why you wash your clothes once in a while.” Stiles smiled brightly at him, making the wolf sigh dramatically.

“Please try to remember that we had a hours long discussion if you're funny or not and we decided that you're not and therefore shouldn't try to make jokes.” Before Stiles, who's eyes glittered prettily with amusement, could counter Jackson turned around, pointing at Becca.

“You're not funny neither.”

“You decided that, Jacky. _We_ decided that we outvote you. And that if you want to keep us, you have to put up with it.” Both walked over to him. Becca slung her arm around his waist, Stiles over his shoulders, grinning cheekily. Next to the trio Scott shifted uncomfortable. And Derek wanted to to the same. They seemed to be in their own world, as if they were constantly together the last years. A closeness that usually was reserved for Scott.

“Why are we here, Stiles?” The younger alpha spoke up, glancing at Belle still sitting on the sofa.

“What? Oh, yeah.” Thankfully Stiles didn't even try to get closer to his .. whatever she was.

“Guys, this is my big sister, Isabelle.” His voice to fond for Dereks liking.

“And those are my pack. Scott, Isaac, Allison, Kira, Lydia, Aiden.. uhm, no, Ethan and Aiden.”

“Oh my god.” Her voice barley a whisper.

“I told ya.” The boy repeated and Derek was getting confused and annoyed. Somebody was outside. Probably still outside. Maybe even inside. And Stiles had nothing better to do than to make jokes. True he always did that. Never be able to shut up if the situation was tense or most definitely life-threatening.

“Oh my god.” Belle repeated, awed.

“Stiles! What is going on?” At least he wasn't the only one annoyed. Scott crossed his arms over his chest, something he probably picked up from Derek.

“You told me to get the pack here. Then Derek calls because somebody's here. You say she's your sister but Derek wont let you near her. And whatever Jackson has with him really smells disgusting. Please. What's going on?”   
“It's for a truth-spell.” Surprisingly it was Belle who decided to enlighten the pack. She stood up, carefully kept her distance to Stiles and the others.

“So I can prove that I'm not the one trying to kill Stiles. You can lie to a werewolf, but you can't lie to a truth-spell.” Instantly the pack grew wary of her, trying to put themselves between her and Stiles. They weren't exactly subtle.

“Wait. So you're the one who tries to kill him?” Isaac and Scott exchanged a slightly worried and confused glance before looking back to Belle.

“No, she's not!”

“Stiles.”

“No! You would never do that!”

“I know. You know. Let them do this.”

“Hell no! It'll hurt. Why is both our word not enough?”

“You know why. I could have manipulated you. Or I could have been manipulated. It's better this way.” Stiles did this best to stay were he was, even though you could see how hard it was.

“On who's side are you even on?”

“Oh little one. You know I'm always on your side. And that's why I want this. Please. Let us do this. Okay? Let's get this over so I can hug you. And help you to clean up this mess.”

 

 

Stiles knew he wouldn't get out of this one. Sometimes his sister was just a bit to much like him. If she set her mind on it, there was no stopping her. She wanted to go through with it and they would. It _was_ his idea. He brought it up, he wanted to do it. But having her here, save and right next to him and to put her trough pain just because his trust in her wasn't enough, wasn't something he would simply accept. Not that he had a word in now. He could only run along. If he didn't Belle would probably do it without him. And he wanted it to be over. He wanted to hug her. And he wanted to hug Derek. And as long as she was a possible threat to him both wouldn't happen. So. Truth-spell it was.

Stiles took the ingredients and the instruction from Jackson, reading them carefully. It wasn't exactly easy to mess up. Just mix everything together, form a circle around the informant, make them swallow the (abhorrent) mixture, the spark has to chant the short spell and for an hour the informant can only speak the truth. It was laughable, really. Except for the part where half of the ingredients were slightly toxic and would cause undefined pain until fully digested.

According to the specifications Stiles went to the kitchen and put everything in the mixer. He made a mental note to buy Derek a new one. After pouring it into a glass he walked back, where Lydia already had them form a circle around Belle.

“Drink up.” He gave her the glass and placed it on the table afterwards. Lydia in the meantime, god bless her soul, handed a bottle of water to a heaving and coughing Belle.

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks. Get going. But – just – be nice.” Stiles took a deep breath, closed his eyes and cited the four lines of the spell.

“Umama umhlaba kanye onkulunkulu ngenhla

iqiniso sifuna

futhi iqiniso eyedwa

kufinyelele kithi ngibenze ukhulume” An nothing happened. There was no yell, no light, no spark or smoke or anything else that could have indicate that the spell worked.

“I swear, if I drunk that for nothing -!”

“It's easy to find out, right. What's your favourite PJ?”

“I told you to be nice. The one you gave me, the fluffy one. With unicorns on it.”

“Yeah, I have the best presents. But not embarrassing enough to be sure it's working.”

“Stiles!” She whined.

“Remember the time I was under a truth-spell?” Belle had the good grace to blush.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, because I know you would never say it out loud, who of us would you want to date?”

“Stiles!” The hiss that followed was more of pain, than annoyance.

“Please.”

“They don't know you good enough to tease you over it. And if they do, I kick ass. Who?”

“.... Lydia.” Most of the group just looked surprised, Aiden gave a short growl and Lydia couldn't decide between a small but pleased smile and a blush.

“Well, I guess I could be persuaded to drink a coffee with you.” Aiden growled again, but was shut up by a simple glare from Lydia.

“I think we can say it works. Did you throw a knife in my neck?”

“What? No! In your neck? How are you even alive?”

“Bad aim. Did you gave the knife to someone?” Derek interrupted.

“Nobody touches my knifes! Not to pick it up after a battle, not to help me clean it, not to just look at them.”

“Did you let somebody in the house so they could take your knifes?”

“I didn't let anybody in. But if they were allowed in before they could easily come and go when I was shopping. While I was home, nobody came.”

“But somebody could have token them without your knowledge?”

“My old ones, yes.”

“Did you ever try to kill him?”

“Uhm... not deliberately.” By now she was sweating and shaking all over. She spoke slow, hissing every time a question was asked.

“Not deliberately! What does that mean?” Dereks voice rose, and even the rest of the pack send dark looks at her.

“He was ill – I made him eat the food I cooked.”

“And please don't forget your 20th birthday. Seriously, I have no idea how any of us walked out of that one alive.”

“You always jump right in danger, if I need saving or not.”

“Yeah” Scott drawled.

“He tends to do that.” He wasn't sure if that was an compliment or an insult. Maybe both. But they got side-tracked and Stiles needed this whole thing to end.

“Anyway, did you ever attacked me with the intention to really kill me?”

“No.”

“Did you helped anybody with the intention to kill me?”

“No.”

“Did you deliberately looked away so somebody could kill him?”

“Isn't that the same as helping? But, no, I didn't.”

“Doing nothing is not helping. The outcome can be the same tough.” Lydia clarified.

“Did you ever attacked Tia?”

“Goddess, no!”

“Do you intent to help whoever is behind this attack in the future so they can reach their goal?”

“No!”

“Okay, not that I needed proof, but for me it's enough.” He looked pointedly at Derek. When no objection came, Stiles darted forward, pulling Belle into the promised hug. She hold him so tight his rips started to ache, but nether let go.

“I missed you.” She admitted, whispering it in his neck.

“You too.”

“It hurts.” It had to, otherwise she would have never said it in front of werewolves, no matter how quiet her words were. Stiles petted her hair, smiling at Derek and Scott over her shoulder, just because.

“I know.” Slowly he let his hand wander down to her neck. It would be better if she slept it out.

“I make it stop.” Both knew what he was about to do. How could they not, when she was the one who taught him the trick.

 

As soon as her limbs went slack he picked her up and carried her to the sofa. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and went to hug the whole pack, one after another, including Jackson and Becca. Starting with Scott, saving Derek and Tia for the end.

“I missed ya, buddy.” He mumbled in Scotts neck. Right now he was a better friend to Jackson and Belle, somehow forgetting his best friend. Things had changed, and he didn't thought both of them were others number one. But they would always be close friends, and they would always be brothers.

“Missed you, too.” And those words felt almost better than the hug did.

 

It took a moment, but eventually everybody calmed down. Scott ordered the wolves to secure the house. Meaning, they would walk the perimeter, making sure nobody would come closer than a mile to the house. Switching every hour. If somebody came, they would know. Allison and Kira drove back into town, talking to Chris and Nate, buying groceries. Jackson was allowed to colour with Tia, while watching Disney's Brave. It was somewhat scary to see how good he was with kids. And that he loved it. He was sweet and careful with her, complimenting her on her choice of colours and insisted that she would make an awesome Marida. Lydia and Becca went along surprisingly well. Talking about god knew what in the kitchen. Apparently the pecan pie had to wait. Not that Stiles was to upset about that.

Not when Derek was tugging him upstairs to his bedroom to … cuddle. But he wasn't even to upset about that neither. Just having Derek close, both arms wrapped around him felt incredible. Calming and safe.

“About earlier -” Derek started. His voice a low rumble that send shivers down his spine.

“I know. It's okay.” And it really was.

“It's to much to hope she will let herself get caught by the betas, right?”

“Yeah, sorry. She wont get to close with the house full of wolves. Fred and George taught her enough.”

“I just want this all to be over.” He had his head buried in Stiles neck, nose in his hair and one hand pressed at the small of his back. Under his shirt. Stiles would have to check for marks later. He was sure to find a hand burned into his skin.

“Mhmm.” And nooo! Derek was not allowed to pull his head away.

On the other side... He brought the hand currently not busy fusing with his back up to Stiles face, tracing his lower lip before leaning it. And that was so much better.

“What do you think about soundproofing the room?” Derek rumbled into his mouth, nibbling at his lip before going back to kissing him.

“Awesome. Perfect.” He had no idea how his voice sounded, didn't want to know. He let his eyes flash white for a few seconds. It was really hard to concentrate when someone was liking your neck. Licking! Not kissing or biting … oh, okay. That was a bite.

“Locked the door was well.” He managed to breathe, before starting to giggle. Derek was seriously pouting at his shirt. Of course, being a good boyfriend – they were boyfriends, right? – he took the chance and rolled them both over, so he was straddling him. Stiles leaned down, pecking Dereks lips and pulled of his shirt.

“Better?”

“Better!” Waaaay better. His collarbones would be purple by tomorrow, but he really couldn't find anything negative about that.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! But I swear on Tyler Hoechlins smile and Jensen Ackles licking his lips that I will finish this story. At the moment I just find it hard to find time or muse to write. But look - I brought you some porn as an apology. Seriously, this chapter is just porn. Well, I tried.

Derek was at war with himself. He wanted to bite and lick, to put this mouth on every inch of Stiles body, taste his skin. He needed to feel the soft, warm, yielding flesh under his fingertips. All of it. He wanted to flip them over and just take take take. He wanted to lean back and offer himself, let Stiles have whatever he wanted. He wanted to just feel, get lost in the sensations. But his mind wouldn't stop. His wolf running circles, growling and yapping. Overjoyed and still demanding more. The Air was charged with lust and tingling magic. And he knew that his eyes were constantly switching between his usual green-ish colour and Alpha red.   
Derek growled, biting yet another mark on Stiles collarbone. Both were breathing hard, panting into each other necks. He wasn't sure if it was because they rarely stopped kissing long enough to catch their breath or because of something else entirely. He wanted to stop, really wanted to. To ask Stiles if everything was okay, if he was sure, if they should stop, if... But Stiles fingertips tingled on his skin as he trailed them down his rips, letting them trail over his hips. And all he could do was let his eyes fall shut and moan.   
“Derek” He sounded as wrecked as Derek felt. But if he thought Derek had enough brain activity left to more than open his eyes and look at him, then Stiles as an idiot. An absolute gorgeous idiot. His lips were red and glistening and swollen from kissing, his cheeks flushed, hair tousled by an hurricane and his eyes. His eyes wide and almost black, only a small ring of honey whiskey brown left, lanced with white magic.   
“Derek, wait. Stop.” Now that was a magic word. Derek froze, his hands loosening the grip on Stiles ass.  
“What?”   
“I just -” Stiles gulped in some air. God, he looked so … he would probably have to invent a new word for how good Stiles looked like this. All flushed and marked and breathless and tangled in his arms.   
“I just wanted t-to tell you that your wolf and my magic are – really happy right know. Uhm, and if you don't want us to, you know, be bonded together in all eternity and me blowing up everybody who thinks they can lay a hand on you or, or flirt with you. Then we should stop, I think. Until we have more control.” And jap. Jap that was – his heart was missing a few beats in best case and stopping completely in the worst. But was Stiles said sounded like all his dreams coming true. And even better, it sounded like Stiles wanted it. Probably.   
“Do you want to be bound to me?” Derek voice was barley a whisper.   
“Fuck yes! But, it's a two way thing. So... do you?” It wasn't a question. Not really.  
“Mine!” His arms tighten around Stiles, turning them over so Stiles was pressed into the cushions, kissing the blinding smile from his face.   
“I want a Ring anyway.” His fingertips traced the shape of Dereks lower lip. He nipped carefully at one and smiled down.   
“Anything you want.” Stiles eyes turned soft, even though he scoffed.  
“Stop being perfect and fuck me.” Awesome idea! 

In a swift movement he pulled of his shirt, stripping them both of their jeans and boxers afterwards. So much skin, waiting to be explored. He leaned down, nipping at Stiles hipbone. Shooting a wicked grin up before biting down and sucking a mark right under the bone. And coping it on the other side, making his mate yelp and moan. Such pretty sounds.   
“Fuck. Stop teasing!” Stiles bit his lip hard as Derek licked at the tip of his cock.   
“Derek please.” He mouthed his way down. Tiny kitten licks that left him arching his back.   
“Please what?” Seriously, he was somewhat surprised that he still could talk evenly. His head felt dizzy with need.   
“I swear, you take all the time you want – ah – next time. Just get on with it.”   
“So pushy.” Stiles pulled him up on his hair – and Derek would ever denying that it send warm shocks down his spine – and licked into his mouth thoroughly, making his head spin.   
“That's what you like about me.” Of course, Stiles being Stiles, figured out the secret as soon as Derek did, and pulled at his hair. Hard. Forcing a groan out of him and making his hips move on their own accord. Which was a great idea, since it rubbed their cocks together, leaving him in breathless pleasure of a second. But it wasn't enough by far.   
“Goddess, Derek. If you don't get started soon you can wait outside while I finish this.” And hell, no way. But before he could do anything Stiles let his own hand trail down, his knuckles brushing against the underside of his penis and then wrapping his long, slender fingers around it. His hips bucked again and his head fell on Stiles shoulder. It felt so good. He carefully bit into said shoulder to muffle a moan as a thump swept over his tip.   
“If you want me to do any – nghh – anything, you need to, god Stiles, you need to stop.” The hand vanished instantly and if he whined at that it really wasn't his fault. It gave him the final motivation to reach over and open the bedside drawer, though. He fished out the Lube, flicked it open on the short distance his arm had to cover back to the bed. Stiles hands were buried in the sheets, eyes closed, fevered skin and his legs spread on each side of Dereks hip. His wolf wanted to pounce at it, but he took a second to just look. And then, because they both could be assholes, he squeezed the cool lube right on Stiles belly. Making the boy yelp, his eyes snapping open.  
Almost as an apology he swept his fingers trough the clear mess, letting them trail to Stiles tight hole and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Biting down as he pushed one finger in.   
“AH! What was that? Biting the virgin? I have you to know that I'm not a virgin anymore. In no way.” Derek growled dark and possessive. Wanting to hunt down those who had their hands on his mate before him. Biting of their hands, ripping out their throats. Stiles was his.   
“Mine! No one else, never again.” And he pushed a second finger in. Earlier than he normally would and Stiles hands were scratching, searching for hold on his shoulders. But he was careful as he started to scissor them.   
As he hit his prostate Stiles out right mewled. And Derek had to stop for a second, forcing his wolf down, his teeth and eyes back to normal. This mate was right, they could take their time the next time. Next time they could explore, teasing, getting lost in the pretty pretty sounds and the way Stiles pushed himself down on his fingers. Right know it took enough control to just add a third finger and not his throbbing cock.   
“Oh Goddess, Derek, please. Please. I swear, no one else ever again. I'm yours. All yours. But please.” Stiles was babbling or maybe chanting. Repeating the same words over and over again and turning his self-control into something non-existent. He wouldn't be able to go slow, to be careful. Assuming by the way Stiles clamped down on his fingers he wouldn't be able to last either.   
“Derek, come on, please. I'm ready. Fill me up. Mark me. Make me yours. Anything.”  
“Stiles.” It came out as a whine. One day the boy would probably kill him with his words. Well, at least we would die happy. And even if he couldn't muster his facial muscles to form a smirk, it felt good to hear Stiles whine as well, as he pulled out his fingers.   
“Such a needy little pup. You ready for me? To be split open, filled with my cock. My come. I will drench you in my come, my scent until everybody can smell me on you. So they know to keep their filthy hands of you. You are mine. Am I right, pup.” He didn't gave Stiles the chance to replay, simply lined up, pushed in. Slow but steady. Swallowing the moan with his own mouth as he kissed him greedily.   
“Mine. My mate. So good for me. Take me so good. I will make it good for you, too.” Derek was right, he wasn't able to take it slow. But he kept his eyes on Stiles face, constantly scanning it for pain. He wouldn't hurt him. Right know it showed nothing but ecstasy.   
“I will fuck you so hard, you will forget everyone who ever had you. Until all you can scream is my name. I will make you beg. Be loud for me little pup. Be loud, so everybody can hear how good you are to me. How good I am for you.” With each thrust he pulled out almost completely, snapping his hips back in fast. And Stiles was an obedient little pup, making pretty and loud noises. Moaning and groaning and mewling. Repeating his name like a prayer. One leg slung over Dereks back, one hand in his hair and the other on his arm. Where the talking came from he had no idea, though. That never happened before. Not that Stiles seemed to mind. Or Derek for that matter. Right now he just needed his mouth on pale skin. Tasting. Marking.   
“Gonna mark you up so good. You will see them for days. Feel it. Knowing you belong to me.” He nipped at the soft flesh right under his navel, then turning to the right. Drawing a line with his tongue from one mole to another, following the hollow between two rips. Which earned him a yell and a hard tug on his hair. Huh. He leaned over, copying the movement on Stiles left side. And was rewarded with another breathless yell.   
“Please. Derek. Please. I need – aghnnnn – please, I need to – “ And Derek did too. Could already feel the heat pooling his his belly. But there was this new thing with Stiles rips and is was damn distracting. He let his lips trail over it. A lick from the bottom up to his arms gave him a whimper, if he followed the line of the bones Stiles would moan almost pornographically. Also on the plus side? He kept tugging on Dereks hair. Or downside, depending on how long he wanted to last.   
Knowing this time they both were already to lost, he crawled up, panting into Stiles neck and wrapping a hand around his dick. Trying to pump in sync with his thrusts. Being to close to have any rhythm left, he simply tightened his grip, pumping faster. Letting this thump rub on the tip every now and then.   
Stiles came with Dereks name on his lips. A quiet, wrecked sound. Eyes wide and unseeing. He clamped down hard on Derek, fingers digging into skin before falling lose to his side. He stopped moving, waiting for Stiles aftershocks to lessen, his muscles shaking from the sheer force to keep still. Only when his mate went pliant under him he started again. It took only a handful sharp thrusts before he was biting down, groaning loud around Stiles shoulder. His arms gave out and he crashed down on the boys chest, breathing hard. He gave himself two breaths before pulling out and rolling to his side.   
“Goddess. We're going to do that a lot.”  
“Mhmmmm” How could Stiles already talk? Derek cracked one eye open, unsure when he had closed them. Stiles was still starfishing next to him, panting at the ceiling. Looking satiated and thoroughly fucked. Yeah, they were going to do that a lot.   
And he could still feel him. Not only by his side. It was like the bonds he had with his betas. But more, stronger. It felt warm, happy. Like a content cat, purring in the sun. He poked at it. Making Stiles chuckle.  
“Told ya. You're stuck with me now. I'm yours. And you're mine.” The bond jiggled with happiness, filling him with warmth. Or maybe it was just the words of his mate. His mate! Derek smiled at nothing.   
“Also? Next time I'm gonna fuck you. I need to know if your mouth is just as filthy if you bottom!”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I'm still alive and back from London (I want to go back!!!) It took me an embarrising long time to write this bit. Away from bad city influence I'm hoping to finish the story sooner rather than later. :)  
> Lots and lots of fluff this time. So obviously shit has to go down in the next chapter. Also the internet here is a disgrace and I can't find the wolfy-pic. hmpf. (... found it)

It was nice, just lying there. Feeling heavy and tired and warm and happy. He rolled over, cushioning his head on Dereks chest. He'd love to stay here longer, cuddling and forgetting the world. But they got stickier with every second and his kid was downstairs. As most was most of the pack. And yeah, the soundproof-charm was the best ever. The thought brought up something else as well. Something less pleasant.

Stiles sighed, placed a kiss on Dereks very very nice chest and sat up. Time to face reality again. Hooray.

“Come on, Sourwolf. Let's take a shower.” The bond tingled happily at the nickname and Stiles wanted nothing more than to fall back down and start all over again.

He loved the bond already, the feeling of it, the meaning. If he could, he would wrap his arms around it and hug the hell out of it for an hour or two.

“Mhmm.” It was more of a content rumble than anything else.

Derek had is eyes closed, lips curved up into a small smile. It was really not Stiles fault that he leaned back down to kiss his adorable mate, receiving another rumble.

“Chop Chop. Or I'll have to name you Lazywolf.” He smacked his thigh and rolled out of bed.

“noo, c'me back” One hand was sloppily grabbing at Stiles, eyes only half open. Stiles insides turned into goo. He was so far gone, it should have been embarrassing.

“Back to bed? So we can cuddle and kiss and sleep for a while?”

“Mhmm.” To be fair, it did sound pretty amazing. But right now there were more important things. Unfortunately.

“Later. Come on. Get up.”

“Don' wanna” Oh there would be revenge for making it so damn hard. Also he could probably use it for future blackmailing.

“Yeah well, there are things to do. Now get up, I wont ask you again to shower with me.”

 

Standing in the master bathroom, under the shower with the water temperature just a tick to cold still, there was still the idea of marrying Derek for his bathroom. Spacey and airy, with a huge window like everywhere else in the house.

Wood floor except for the bathtub and shower area, which was covered, floor and walls, in proper stone. The walls weren't quite white. Eggshell or crème white or whatever the colour was called. You know, men and colours. Drops of baby blue everywhere. Towels, the bathmat, Derek had even found a fucking Luffa sponge matching the rest. And did he mentioned the gigantic rain shower head? Forget the bath, he was just marrying the shower!

The second the water turned just right, Dereks strong arms sneaked around his waist, hugging him from behind. Of course the bastard knew when he could get in without getting cold.

“I'm gonna get you a bell, and I will magic it so you can't get it off. Just so you know.” He could feel the huff and smirk at the back of his neck.

“I'm gonna keep you though.” Because there was no force on earth that could make him give his mate up.

… But there were forces that could make him leave.

The arms around him tightened a fraction. Dereks nose brushing his hair on his neck.

“What's wrong?” A murmur, not much louder than the rain falling down on them.

“Hm?”

“You were all happy and then you – drifted off and how you smell sad and anxious.”

“No, it's just..” He stretched his hand out, painting with water drops on the wall.

“Tia you know. I... She's mine as much as you are. And I … I know I don't know her long but she's like my kid. I love her. And how could I ever give her up?”

The arms left his waist, instead there were hands on his shoulders, forcing him to turn around before wrapping themselves around Stiles again.

“Hey now. You won't have to give her up. What makes you think that?”

And it was so easy to let his head drop. Fitting perfectly between Dereks collarbones.

“Who would give her to _me_?! I'm single, I'm 19, I'm just back from being kidnapped for two years. I don't have a job or even a high school degree. No one in their right mind would let me adopt a child.” He took a shuddered breath. Now that he started, he couldn't stop.

“I promised her. I told her she could stay with me. That she would be save. That no one could take her away. But they would never let her stay! And I promised. I promised! And if they say no, which they will... I love you. I love you so much. But I can't let them take her away.”

“Stiles, hey. It's okay, shhh. Look at me, ok? Look at me.” Reluctantly he lifted his head from the broad chest, dragging his eyes even higher to meet Dereks.

“They're not gonna take her away! No, listen to me. They're not take her away because I know someone in the system. She's not a wolf, but she's not a human neither. She knows. And Tia got herself a new and stable pack. She's accepted. Her wolf accepted you as her family.

“That alone would be enough. But you are also mated. Even more so, you are mated to the Alpha. And if that's still not enough for them or you, then I don't care that everybody else will say that it's to soon and we're crazy, but I will drag you to the next church to marry you as soon as we're dry.”

 

It took a moment for the words to sink in. He was looking at Derek with wide eyes. If Dereks soft smile was any indication he looked as stunned and awed as he felt. Not that it mattered, 'cause if he didn't kiss this man right this second he would implode. So he did.

He grabbed Dereks neck and crushed their mouths together. Peppering his mates lips with a few light kisses as apology, before deepening the kiss. He kept it soft and lazy, trying to pour in at least some of the amount of love he felt right now. At one point his other hand found his way between Dereks shoulder blades, while Dereks arms wandered down again to his waist, one thump drawing circles on his hipbone.

“You need to stop being so perfect!”

“You know better than anyone that I'm far from perfect.” He directly proofed his point invalid by placing a kiss on Stiles nose.

“Fine, then you're just perfect for me.”

Stiles was sure he was smiling just as stupidly as Derek was. And wasn't that great? They were one of those disgustingly sweet forever in love couples!

He threw his head back, laughing giddily. At Dereks questioning glance he shook his head.

“Let's try to keep it down around the pack. Otherwise no amount of Alpha-eyes and cursing will stop them from mocking us in all eternity.” A huff and a dollop of shampoo on his head was his reward.

“Clearly you haven't been around for a while. They will mock us anyway.”

They soaped each other down while sharing short and slow kisses. And okay, maybe it was more like knocking each others arms out of the way than actually washing, but apparently they both didn't care about that. And somehow they managed to finish their shower. Even though they almost got a bit (a lot) side-tracked when Stiles dropped to his knees to lather Dereks legs.

 

Towels and arms wrapped around each other, Derek nuzzling his neck, Stiles wasn't 100 percent sure his feet were touching the floor.

“You know this feels awfully like a honeymoon. But without the marring and going away.” His head was dripped back to give the other man more room.

“How would you know? Is there anything I should know?” Adding a playful bite to his shoulder.

“If honeymoons feel better or more in love than this, I'm not sure I would survive it.”

“And you say I'm the sap.”

“I said no such thing! I like it when you go all fluffywolf on me.” Derek only smiled sweetly at him. It was fond and open and happy and Stiles was already so addicted to it, he would literally kill to make sure Derek could keep smiling like that.

“So” his mate drawled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“What's the plan?”

“The plan is to call your friend in the system, then Tia and I will move in – officially. Then I will go back to school and finish in one year, thank you. At one point you will ask me a very important question and we will marry. After graduation but before college starts. Which will be online or near enough so I can drive from here, because I will not share a room will a guy who can't clean up after himself and tries to convince me that it's a good idea to smoke weed an hour before I have a very important test.

“But first things first. And firstly I need to talk to _Suit_ , so I can talk to _Bloodhound_ , so they can take out the crazy wife, so nobody will kill me when I move in and tell you wolves where to put all those heavy books.”

 

 

Tia knew she was _only a child,_ as her parents used to say, but she wasn't stupid. She knew that Stiles and Derek were now mated. She could feel it. Feel the way she know was really part of the pack. When they came back down, Stiles was laughing. He was smelling a bit funny, but mostly he smelt like him and Derek. She liked it. It made her feel save and _home_.

Stiles picked her up, twirling her around and placing kisses all over her face. She was happy. He was still holding her up, still laughing and she kicked her dangling legs, a small giggle escaping her throat.

“Derek know somebody. And she will make sure that you can stay with me. Legally. So nobody can come up and take you away again.” That was-

Her head snapped around, starring straight at Derek with wide eyes. He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. He smiled and nodded when he caught her gaze. And suddenly Tia felt so tiny. She was so small the feeling inside her so so big.

“Hey baby girl. You okay?” Sniffing a bit she nodded at Stiles concerned question. He looked somewhat worried and swiped something away on her cheeks. Tears. Apparently she was right, she was too small and her feelings were leaking out. She nodded again, more excited this time, and smiling brightly before burring her face in Stiles neck.

She wanted to say _something_. Telling him she was happy. Calling him Dad. But .. she wasn't sure if she could. Open her mouth and talk. She really wanted to. Only she was so scared.

“Happy tears, huh? They're the best. I'm happy too.” But he seamed to understand her anyway.

“It might take a bit, but you'll definitely be allowed to stay and then you'll have two new dads and a pack. Well, we'll be something like Dads. We will be taking care of you. And love you like a Dad would. But you don't have to call me Dad. Or Papa. Or anything like that. I mean, you can. If you want to. But you don't have to. We will love you just as much if you call us Stiles and Derek. Or anything really. Like old man. Although Derek is older than I and we're allowed to protest at that. And -”

“Stiles.” Derek put a hand on each of their heads, kissing their hair.

“You ramble. She's a smart girl, I'm sure she knows.” She did. And she knew they needed to catch the bad guy who was keeping to hurt Stiles. If they were gone, than everything would really be good.

“I need to talk to Belle.” Stiles mumbled into the tiny space between the three of them.

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Joined a Habitica challenge, so hopefully the writing goes faster now.  
> POV Stiles only. Don't know how that happend..

“Belle. Belle, hey. Come on, open your eyes for me, big sis.” Stiles was petting the girls hair.   
“Hmmmm?” His eyes turned a bit softer, a fond smile crawling up his face. And Derek had to tell himself that this girl was now part of the family. It wasn't that he was jealous. How could he when he felt Stiles and his bond, thrumming happily trough him. Still, he had to hold himself back to not even glare at her. Because, maybe she was the reason Stiles didn't came back home earlier. Maybe he didn't tried harder because he didn't want to leave her alone.   
“You can go right back to sleep, but I need to call Suit.” She hummed again, fishing out her mobile from somewhere under the blanket and started typing, eyes almost closed. Derek always found it weird that one had to narrow their eyes to see better. But he had to admit that it could look adorable. Depending on the person of course. Nothing his uncle did, for example, could ever be described as adorable. Even before he went insane.   
Belle handed her phone off to Stiles, already half asleep again. The spell really must have done a number on her. Hopefully he never had to experience it himself. 

When Stiles walked up to him, phone already on his ear, he automatically leaned in, placing a kiss on soft skin, before dropping his head on a strong shoulder. God, it took less than 24 hours to turn him into a lap dog. But Stiles nuzzled at his temple and Derek decided that everybody could just screw themselves. He had Stiles and Tia and he didn't care one bit if they could turn him into mush just by being in the same room as he. 

“Hey Butch. How are you holding up?” A voice as deep as gravel wavered through the phone. Causing Stiles to smirk.   
“She's a bit sleepy, but fine. How are your suits, Suit?”   
“Well, if that isn't Little Red. Looks like you've gone back to the big bad wolves.”  
“I love our names. But play aside. I need to talk to Bloodhound.”  
“You never call just to talk, boy.”  
“That's not true. Remember that time I called to ask if you got my present?”  
“Yes, and what a lovely present it was.” The growl slipped out of Dereks throat before he could hold it back. It wasn't even loud, but on the other end of the line was suddenly death silence. Stiles buried a hand in his hear with a low chuckle.   
“Don't worry, Sourwolf. Suit and I only share our sense of humour.”   
“Sourwolf?” Suit laughed. It sounded surprisingly carefree.   
“Back to business. I need to talk to Bloodhound. He wont talk to me. And he wont talk to Butch, because we're close.” Stiles hand was still caressing trough Dereks hair, seemingly unconscious.  
“'Cause he will talk to me. Red, he knows I like you best.” A sigh.   
“It's worth a try. Look, a lot happened the last few days. I need to make it right again. And for that I need to talk to him.”   
“I don't know what you want me to do. He wont listen to me if I start talking about you.”  
“Then don't.”  
“Besides, it's not exactly playing by the rules.” Dose damn, rubbish rules. As if any of those kidnapping bastards were ever playing by the rules. They were turning and twisting them just like they needed them. Where in in their books was hurting a little – innocent! - child playing by the rules?   
“Bullshit. Since when do you care about those?” A sigh.  
“Red -”  
“Don't make me beg. I – she hurt a kid, okay. She hurt my kid.”  
“I call you back.” And then the line went dead. 

Only now Derek felt as if he could let go of his mate, gave in to the urge to pace. Some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. He hadn't even realised how much of a threat he saw in Suit. The wolf making sure to stay near Stiles, so he could protect him. But now he walked up and down the room, scowling. He didn't trust this. He didn't trust Suit. For all the fight the man put up earlier, he gave in far to quickly. Something had to be wrong.   
“He's up to something.” Derek could feel the twitch in his gums, his fangs ready to drop any second.  
“Nah” With a soft 'tap tap tap' Stiles twisted the mobile in his hand, turning it over and back again. He shot Derek a glance, heaving a sigh. But it sounded more amused than annoyed.   
“He's a father.” Came the explanation.  
“He might not be big on rules. None of them are, really. But nobody goes against a kid whilst he is there. Knight, human or whatever.”   
“I still don't trust him.”   
“Of course you don't.” Stiles laughed and went over to kiss him.   
“You wouldn't be my Sourwolf if you did” He drew his arms around Dereks neck and nuzzled his cheek.   
Derek dropped his head, breathed in deep to savour Stiles scent. How it mixed with his own.   
“I need you get out of this alright.” His arms sneaked around the smaller man's waist, pulling him impossible close, not realising they weren't alone in the room anymore.  
“No matter what. I can live through everything. But I can't lose you.”   
“Don't worry, love. I've got a trick for that. I'm not gonna leave the two of you behind. Promise.”   
“'Sides, if your pack can't protect you, I will.” While Derek growled at his former Beta, Stiles hid a smile.

He twisted in the tight embrace to face his friend.  
“Inappropriate as always, Jacky.” Jackson was standing in the door, looking bored out of his mind, but with tight shoulders that belied his nonchalance.   
“Don't care. You're going to be my Best Man and I'm not going through the hustle of finding a new one. So suck it up buttercup.”   
“Aww, why did we hate each other in High school again?”   
“Because I was an idiot.”  
“Oh my god! Please tell me somebody filmed that!” He laughed. Stiles hadn't even noticed that he was leaning back in the embrace until Derek started to nuzzle and scent mark his neck again.   
“Oh shut up. At least I grew up.”   
“None of you grew up.” Lydia snapped, shouldering her way into the room.   
She flipped her hair and looked around.  
“Well, what's your big plan?”   
“Right now? We're gonna wait for their call.”  
“That's all?” He shrugged.  
“If they're agreeing to meet me, it's going to be me alone. They're not gonna let me bring werewolf backup. And we're playing it by their rules.” He threw a stern look over his shoulder at Derek.   
“I'll meet them alone and we'll talk and then we'll see. I know Hound. Despite this whole mess here, he's a good guy. He'll listen.   
“He might not let me of the hook that easily, but if I can convince him – and I can – to take her out first, he will help. And then he's going to drag my sorry ass somewhere quiet to question me. And after that, well I guess he'll let me go. But I do have an ace or two up my sleeve if he doesn't want to let me stay.” He shrugged again.   
“I know my cards, but I have to wait and see what he plays, to plan my next move.”   
“You're not going out there alone.” Dereks voice was a deep growl. And, oh gods, Stiles wanted to hear that voice in bed.  
“Eww, come on Stilinski. Nobody wants to know that.” Jackson wrinkled his nose. It made him look like a adorably confused puppy. The soft click of a camera told him, he wasn't the only one to think so.   
“You have absolutely no room to talk. The things I see in your aura when your girlfriend is around – it's not funny anymore.”   
“Can't be to worse then, since you never had any sense of humour.”   
“Boys!” Snapped Lydia again. And Stiles could practically feel his mates eye roll.   
“Don't worry, it's their way to show their love.” Becca came up behind her fiancé, hooking her chin on his shoulder.  
“You have no idea how often I woke up to those two skyping and throwing insults at each other.”   
“Seriously?” Both, Derek and Lydia asked.   
“So what? We had to work the time difference.” Jackson defended them, backed up by a eagerly nodding Stiles.

But before anyone could say something else a song started to play.  
“One minute I'm in Central Park, then I'm down on Delancey street. From the bow'ry to saint marks, there's a syncopated beat. Whoo, whoo whoo whoo whoo! I'm street wise, I can improvise.” Derek tilted his head.  
“Is that Oliver and Company?”   
“Whoo Whoo Whoo Whoo” Stiles answered, before picking up his phone.   
“Tell me, Dodge.”   
“I told you not to call me that.” The voice on the other end was a deep yet soft grumble.   
It made Stiles always think of black velvet, cool silk and Bach's cello suites.   
“If the shoe fits. But I guess that's not why you called.” His tone was flippant, but his free hand clutched to Dereks, knowing it wouldn't hurt the wolf.   
“Suit said you wanted to talk.”   
“Yeah, what do you think of a little powwow on the front lawn. Just you and me, no backup, no tricks.”   
“If you want to come to the questioning..”  
“No, not really. But we can do that afterwards. This is about Maggs. About how she tried to kill my kid. And about how you just watched it happen.” There was a long pause.   
“We don't back her up, if that's what you think.”  
“No, I didn't say that. But you knew what she was doing and you did nothing! She hurt an innocent kid. Somebody who's gone trough enough pain and bloodbath already. And she's my kid now, okay. And no matter what you think of me right now, she has nothing to do with it.   
“So please, let us get Maggs out of the way. We both know that she doesn't care about the truth. Or how many she hurts or kills to get to me. And you taught me, that that goes against everything we stand for!” A pause again.   
“Alright.” Bloodhound answered finally with a sigh.  
“Half an hour, outside of the house. Make sure your pack stays in. Or I will.”   
“Thank you.” He hung up and turned around to take in Dereks stormclouded face. 

“I know, I know, you don't like it.”  
“No, I don't.”  
“He's right.” Lydia spoke up.  
“It feels like a trap.”   
“Maybe. But we'll need help tricking Maggs. She might not have any morals whatsoever, but she isn't stupid. And the Twins taught her well.” He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on Dereks lips.   
“I want this over. And I trust Bloodhound.” Obviously that was the wrong thing to say.   
“How can you trust him!” Derek growled.   
Stiles run a hand trough his hair, head hung low.   
“Can we please not have this conversation again? I just want her out of the way. I want to have the truth-spell over. And I want to already had the talk with Hound about me not going back with them.” His mate tensed up, eyes going wide.   
“You want to.” Stiles couldn't quite place the emotions in his voice. Confusion and shock. Probably some hurt.  
“I want to what?”   
“You want to go back. Stay with them.” 'Leave me' hung loud in the air.   
It took him a couple of seconds to comprehend what Derek said. But his silence was mistaken for a yes. Sharp pain shot trough the bond, constricting his chest and forced him to fight sudden tears.   
“What makes them so much better than us? Why bother to come back at all? So you could find Tia a new home? Some place she's save and then fuck off again? Come back every now and then to visit for a couple of hours? 'cause I'm not letting her anywhere near them!” A small sob and a sudden weight against his legs let Stiles look down. 

Tia was hugging his leg, face pressed against his lower back and shaking slightly. His heart seized again and he instinctively bend down to pick her up. He held her tight, swinging slightly.   
“I'm not leaving. We're staying together. I promised! I'm not leaving.” He reassured her, but trying to catch Dereks eyes as well.   
To make him understand. But Derek wasn't listening. His pain turning to anger, hiding behind it. Eyes bleeding red at the sight of Stiles holding the little girl in his arms. Probably seeing it as an attempt to take her away from him as well, not so sooth her.   
While the pack took a careful step back, Jackson made one towards Stiles, fangs out and growling.   
“Why are you even here then? For old times sake? Did you even try to leave?”  
“Derek...” Some tears rolled down his cheeks.   
He tried to stop them, hated to feel so weak right now, his girl clutched against his chest.   
“Oh he did try.” Bella sounded still tired and worn out, her voice gruff.  
“Got him in intensive care more than once.”


	30. Chapter 30

Derek had made a mistake. A huge mistake. Some rational part of him knew that Stiles would never do something like that and that he should have stopped talking like five minutes ago. But he sensed that some irrational part of his mate wanted to leave and he just … panicked. Pain filled is chest that wasn't his own. He could feel how worried the pack was and Tias fear. And then Bella woke up and started talking about Stiles did to come back to him.

All air, all fight left him. Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving, knowing he would have to pay for his words. Stiles wasn't even looking at him anymore. He and Tia had their faces buried into each other, holding tight. Jackson was standing right behind him, throwing death-ray-glares at Derek.

_Oh God, what had he done?!_

If Laura were here, she would have beat him green and blue. Provided his mother would only shred him into parts big enough for her to do so. His cousin Tommy would laugh his ass of, telling him that he fucked up big time. But his dad.. he would have placed a hand on the back of his neck, carefully bumping their foreheads together. And he could almost hear his voice.

“Oh kid, sometimes you do really stupid things when you're in love. Because you're in love. Everyone does. I did, too. More than once. And so will you. But what you do afterwards is important. So put on your sisters pants and go on your knees. 'cause sometimes saying that you're sorry just won't be enough.”

And just for a moment he missed his family so much, he didn't know how to breathe.

 

“Stiles...” he croaked.

But what could he possibly say? Because his Dad was right, sorry wouldn't be enough.

“I..” Stiles began, breathing deep before lifting his head.

“I know, you didn't mean it. I know, why you just said those things. But I'm not them. I'm not here to use you. Or to hurt you. I'm here because I love you.” Stiles looked him straight into the eyes, willing him to understand.

“But maybe everything went a bit fast. I think it might be best if I sleep at my Dad's for a bit.”

“Okay.” Derek was fast to agree.

There was nothing he wouldn't do, to get Stiles back. And if that meant lying awake all night, being miserable because there wasn't a warm body next to him, that he would do that. He survived the last few years, he could do a few more days. Even though the wolf wanted to argue. Wolves didn't move to fast. They met, they fell in love, they mated and lived happily ever after. And sometimes they did all that in a single day.

Stiles nodded, gifting him with a week smile that send Derek almost to his knees and left the room. Jackson hot on his heels.

 

“You're an idiot, you know that.” Bella told him, not unkindly.

“I know.” There was a sigh and the rustle of a blanket.

“Mating is important for wolves, isn't it? And most do it for life.” Derek turned around to face her before nodding.

“For Sparks it's a big deal as well. They don't need to mate. Or bond, which would be the right term. And they do it rarely. But if a Spark bonds it's permanent. No take backs. And we're very careful to whom we bond ourself to. We take our spark, our magic and bind it to another persons soul. He _can't_ leave you. Not without cutting himself loose from his spark.” She was looking up to him with soft green eyes.

“But isn't that a bit like trapping?” Becca was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed before her chest, listening carefully.

“Not really. Usually the intended one would know all this before. Or should at least.” Bella bit her lip before turning back to Derek.

“You could leave him. Stiles would keep is Spark and you would still be protected by it. We bond out of love. So if the bonded would be happier without us, they can go. Because we want them happy and loved, even if that's with us. The Spark, though, would never be able to move on.”

“What if the mate .. bonded died?” Derek held is breath.

He wasn't actively participating in the conversation. But his mind was whirling and his heart beat fast.

“It's … Well, first of all it depends on the strength of the bond. The magic itself would try everything to save the bonded. But sometimes that's just not enough. If they don't make it … it's incredibly painful. I don't know how it works, and I don't want to. But the severe pain can last up to several days. And sometimes, but very rarely, the Spark dies as well.” She added the last sentence quietly.

Derek was to busy storming out of the room, needing to yell at his mate a bit more, to notice how uncomfortable Belle looked. Or how her heart skipped a beat when Lydia asked her to discuss things further over some coffee.

He run straight up to his mate, picked Tia out of his arms and shoved her at Jackson before taking a deep breath.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Stiles sounded so adorably, innocently confused.

But Derek needed answers. He had to figure out how not to get side-tracked by Stiles everything on a later date.

“Why did you bond with me. Why would you do something like that to yourself?”

“Because I love you.” As if it were the simplest thing in the world.

And maybe it were.

“You're so fucking stupid!” Not caring that Tia would hear before he grabbed Stiles face and kissed him.

“You're still sleeping on the couch.” Stiles smiled the sweetest smile, giving him a quick kiss in turn.

“Anything.” Derek vowed.

 

 

Stiles didn't know what to do. Or better, he knew rational what he should do. He was trained for these things. But he never had a pack, his family, to worry about. Normally he would just go out, rock this thing and not particularly care hat exactly happened to him. Now though, he knew that he had to keep himself save. For Derek and Tia and his Dad.

Dying while he was still missing, was one thing. Stuff happens, especially when you're kidnapped. But coming home, giving them hope and then going out? Nope, no way. They had all lost enough already. They had lost him before. He wouldn't put them trough that again.

On the other hand, he knew he had to keep his pack save. The deal was that they would stay away. But come on, he knew is pack. If something would go south, they would come out crashing. Not caring for themselves. Which Stiles did in turn very much. So he had to keep them inside.

Sure he could put a shield around himself and the house, doing both. But it would cost to much energy. He would need a break afterwards. And she wouldn't miss such an opportunity. If the _Knights_ helped him, they would all go after _her_ immediately. He needed all his wits.

It was going to be an exhausting day. Keeping the pack inside, going after _her_ , having a 'nice chat' with the _Knights_ , going home. That was the plan and he would stick to it.

 

Stiles closed his eyes. He needed to thing, he needed a plan. And fast. Shielding something so big as the house was heavy work. But he didn't really needed to shield them. Just keep them inside. Mountain ash would only affect the wolves, but … huh. Maybe runes would work. He'd never tried it with something so big, had no idea if it would actually work. There was only so much he could learn in two years. But it was worth a shot.

“I need a main beam. Or a supporting wall.” He told Derek.

“What?” His mate blinked confused, eyebrows turning down to a scowl.

Adorable.

“Where?” No time for useless discussions.

Derek pointed to a picture covered wall in the living room. There was a picture of Dereks family, one of him and Laura laughing into the sun. One of Erica and Boyd. Cora with a cowboy hat and her hands buried in the mane of a horse.

There was one of Scott and Isaac, standing back to back, arms crossed over their chest, wearing sunglasses. One of Lydia, Allison and Kira walking out of a shopping mall, arms heavy with bags. Melissa and Chris laughing, while his Dad had his eyes covered, but he was smiling as well.

There was the whole pack, everyone wearing a simple white shirt with black writing. Lyida's said #Banshee, Allison's #Hunter, there were several #Beta's all with a number. Scott had an Arm over Dereks shoulder, wearing #Alpha 1. But Derek's said #Sourwolf (Alpha 2). And Stiles wanted to cry.

There was a picture of Stiles as well, about 6 or 7 years old, buzz-cut and teeth missing. He was holding his Dad's badge in his hand, looking at it like it was the holy grail.

Stiles took the picture down and fished an knife out of his dimensional pocket. Dimensional pockets turned out to be an absolute bitch to make, but insanely practical to have. One of those invisible, bigger on the inside things. You could fit a whole house inside. You wouldn't find anything though.

He took the knife and started to carve the runes into the wood. Afterwards he cut into the heel of his left hand and smeared some blood over it. Runes always needed blood to work properly. Stiles never understood how people would always cut into the fingertips. It hurt like hell.

Letting out a small sigh, he concentrated on the spell, ordering the house to listen to his words. And the house answered with a loud groan. A creaking noise houses would do in the middle of the night. Stiles nodded satisfied and placed the picture back over it.

 

“Stiles!” Scott came crashing down the stairs.

“What happened?” Wide eyes he looked him up and down, searching for wounds.

“Nothing happened. Just a spell. Now-” he turned back to Tia with a blinding smile.

He kissed her forehead and petted her hair.

“I'm going out and you will all stay here no matter what.” He started to leave but turned back to Derek.

The kiss was hard and fast. He gave the lower lip a soft bite before diving back in. _No matter what_...

 

Stiles shoved himself out of the door. Better to get over with it quick. He gripped the handrail of the veranda and concentrated on the house.

“Nobody leaves.” There was no answering creak, but he knew the house would obey.

As on cue _Bloodhound_ stepped into the clearing. Followed by _Raptor_ , who looked every bit the Erinyes blood she had in her. Long black-blue hair, a wild gleam in her grey eyes and fingernails like claws. Despite her anger-management problems, she was a good person. If you knew how to handle her. And boy, could she sing! Stiles still wasn't convinced she hadn't some Siren blood as well. Apparently her Dad was a great singer. Who knew.

 

“Nice Rune work.” _Hound_ said.

“A bit rushed. But strong. Heart blood.” Nobody knew runes like _Raptor_.

If she said something positive about it, it was good work. And Stiles couldn't help the pride swelling in his chest.

“What do you want?” His mentor asked.

“I want Meggs out of the way.”

“As well. But she's not our priority.”

“She hurt my kid!”

“Your kid?” _Raptor_ laughed.

Stiles had to remember not to yell at her. That it all was just a game and pulling her in his anger would only lead to a feathery mess.

“Yes.” He bit out.

“You mean the kid you stole. Kidnapped. Just like we did with you.”

“I didn't kidnapped her. I saved her!” He hadn't kidnapped her, had he?

“We saved you as well.”

“But you did it against my will, you kept me away from my family, my friends. I couldn't even tell them that I'm alive.”

“How do you know she really wants to stay with you?”

“I asked her.” The whole conversation didn't went like he planned.

“Did you? And what choice does he have? Stay with you or with her death pack?”

“No.” Fuck.

“I- I promised her to keep her save. To find another pack, family of hers if she wants.”

“Oh really?” She smirked at him and Stiles had suddenly the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

“Whatever. You have a point. She hurt a kid.” _Raptor_ stepped back, flicking her hair over one shoulder as she did.

When did she came towards him? Why did she came towards him?

“So you'll help?” Something was wrong.

Wrong. Wrong.

“Yes.” She said.

At the same moment _Bloodhounds_ eyes flashed white and Stiles felt a heavy weight around his neck. His hands flew up, even though he already knew what he would find.

Fingers touched soft leather and Stiles couldn't breathe. It was as if somebody pulled the rug out from under his feed. And he only noticed that his knees had given out when he buried on hand in the short grass.

He couldn't breathe. Tears prickled at the corner of his eyes and he couldn't breathe. This couldn't happen. Not again.

He heard voices. So far away, even though some part of his brain told him they were yelling. He couldn't hear a thing.

“You bastard.” He wanted to scream but all that came out was a broken whisper.

“I'm sorry.” Bloodhound barley made it through.

This couldn't happen. Not again. He put him in a portable prison, just when he thought he was finally free.

HE COULND'T BREATHE.

There was a soft click. Stiles recognised it from somewhere. A click... firearms!

“Let him go.” Stiles head shot up.

His Dad stood only a few feed away, gun pointing at Bloodhounds head. Eyes and voice like steal. Oh goddess, no!

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I'm late again. Another sliped disc, another stay at the hospital. Word of advise? Do some sort of sport. Just a bit.   
> Anyway I wanted to give you the next chapter - it's late and I'm tired and I appologise for all the mistakes.

It was plain dump luck that Nate was on this way to the Hale house. Knowing his Son was back, his colleagues wanted to give him something back, sending him home earlier to spend some time with his kid. And on his way he decided to do a quick perimeter check on food, that was why he didn't drove all the way up to the house, but parked a bit further down the road. Thinking maybe he had a bit of luck and found some evidence, or just a clue.

Bit of luck. Right.

His son was on his knees, a red collar around his neck, trying to fight a panic attack. The pack was standing in the doorway and window frames, yelling, pounding against an invisible barrier. The people standing above his son had to be _Knights_. The people that took his kid from him. Seemingly trying to take him away again. And something just snapped.

He pulled is gun out, pointing it at the head of the guy.

“Let him go.” Stiles called it his 'don't-mess-with-me-Sheriff-voice', cold and hard yet level-headed.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Stiles head snap up, saw the tears on his face and right now there was nothing he wouldn't do. Fuck his job, fuck everything. Nobody went and hurt is kid scot-free.

“There's no need for that, Sheriff.” The man said.

“You took my kid. You're trying it again. The way I see it there is more than enough need for that.”

“We're not taking him away again.”

“No? And I guess the thing around his neck is the latest fashion from Paris.” His gun was still straight up, eyes flicking between the Knights and his son, who was in turn observing the strange woman.

“ _Raptor_.” He was still breathless, but recovering,

The Sheriff wanted nothing more than to pull him into a hug.

“Please, he's my father.” The woman – _Raptor_ – starred at Stiles for a few seconds, before nodding shortly and stepping back.

Nate had no idea what just happened, only that something was going on.

“Dad, please put the gun down.”

“No way, kid.” No fucking way.

“Sir, there are some thing we need to discuss with your son. I only collared him only to assure that he's not running away.”

“Stiles won't run away! Not from us.” The man nodded twice, giving him a charming grin.

As if that would work, asshole.

“Stiles might not, but to protect those he loves _Little Red_ certainly would. As it were, we only want some answerers, as soon as we have those, he will be released. We won't take him by force again.”

“But you don't want to leave him here.” So they would not simply take him, but they sure would try to persuade or bribe him.

“ _Litte Red_ , Stiles, is very gifted. If he would choose to stay with us, we wouldn't say no.”

“I'm not going with you.” Stiles said forcefully.

The man studied his kid for a long moment. There was definitely some sort of non-verbal communication going on. And for a second Nate asked himself if Sparks were telepathic.

“I thought so. But if that's what you want.” But before the discussion would go on Raptor stepped forward again.

“Could we maybe continue inside? So Mrs. I-know-everything won't shoot any of us. And then we can get this absolute ridiculous questioning ritual out of our way.”

“It's necessary.” The man countered.

“Oh please. We all know Stiles didn't kill _The Twins_. He would have been a lot smarter about it. Everybody knows not to step in the middle of a pack war, but those morons just had to prove that they're better than roughly 30 wolves. They weren't. Congratulations. Can we go now?”

“ _Raptor_.” The _Knight_ let out a long suffering sigh.

And really, Nate had to catch his name, his was just stupid. But at least the weird lady was apparently on their side. More or less. Well, she thought that Stiles was innocent and that had to be enough for know.

The man sighed again before shaking his head and turning to Stiles.

“We would kindly ask to be granted entrance to your home. No harm will come from us to you or your pack in the duration of our stay.”

Stiles turned back to the house, eyeing his friends. He had a calculating look in his face. Nate knew that look. It usually meant nothing good. Or, you know, nothing particular joyful for him.

“Dad, put your gun down.” Stiles stood up, head held high.

When did his little kid grew up? He looked determined and strong. Nothing like the broken shell that was taken from him. He was a leader and you better listen to him. So the Sheriff did and lowered his gun. Still, he kept it in his hand and ready.

“I welcome you to our home. No harm will come from us to you in the duration of your stay.” With that he turned around and walked back to the house.

The rest of them followed.

 

He stopped on the threshold and pointed a finger at Derek. Who looked panicked and somewhat feral if you asked Nate.

“This is going to be a maim-free meeting! No blood. No claws. No accidents. We'll talk, you'll all be nice, I'm even willing to let Jackson make some tea. You can yell at each other later. One disaster at a time. And if you can't play nice I'm gonna send each and everyone of you up to their rooms. Is that clear?” Several nods and low murmured yes'es followed.

Nate walked up to his kid and touched his left arm.

“Do you think that's a good idea?” As a father we was allowed to worry and ignore the threat of being send to his room by his own child.

“No. But I refuse to walk around like a leached dog any longer, so we're gonna tackle that problem first.” Stiles gave him an reassuring smile.

“It's gonna turn out okay.” So comforting, really.

Kids these days.

 

He followed Stiles inside. If this went wrong, if he couldn't keep his kid, there would be consequences. Deadly consequences. And those wanna-be Supernatural FBI Agents would be the first on his list. Followed by that crazy bitch, currently set on shooting his son.

 

 

Stiles was a bit tense. Okay, yes. Who was he kidding, he was freaked out and panicky and so good damn exhausted. He just wanted this whole ordeal to be over and sleep for days on end. You know how they say if something starts bad it only can get better. He certainly hoped this was bad, 'cause if not he didn't want to see it.

Just for a moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was all coming to an end soon. Just a bit more and then it would be over. End of discussion. So he took this moment, spending one second of it wishing everything would be different, and the rest of it, steeling himself for the things to come. Remembering the feeling of Dereks arms around him and Tias smile. The next step wouldn't be easy.

He breathed out, opening his eyes and looking straight at Derek. But he couldn't muster more than a week smile. Then he turned around, picked Tia up and nodded to Jackson and Becca to follow him into the kitchen. There he sat Tia down on a stool. Kneeling in front of her, he took both her hands into his.

“Everything is going to be better soon, okay. But till then I need you be strong. Just a little but longer. There is something I have to do and I don't want you to see or hear it. Would you please stay in the kitchen with Jacks and Becca for a bit?” Her brows furrowed in confusion, making her look absolute adorable.

“It's going to hurt me.” The words barley left his mouth when her small hands shot out, grasping his Shirt.

A tiny whimper escaped her throat.

“Don't worry baby girl. It won't be for long. It's just.. sometimes you have to do thing you don't want to do, but you'll do it anyway because it's the right thing. This thing now, I don't want to do it, but I have to, so we can stay here and be safe. Okay? After that, we just have to find the bad woman who shot at us and then we can cuddle on the couch for ages. And eat way to much brownies.

“We're gonna be safe. And a family. I want you to give you your own room, with a fluffy bed and a picture of a fox and a box full of colour pens. Derek will run with you through the woods. And you can both howl at the moon. My Dad would love to take you out in his police car, so you can help him keep the city safe and secretly eating ice cream. We'll both be sitting here, doing homework and Derek will make sure we finishing it. And Sundays I'll make pancakes for us.

“We'll do all this. As long as you want to. But I have to go out there first. Will you wait here?” The words just tumbled out of his mouth, making him feel a bit teary.

Because it felt like warmth and sunshine and love and family and he wanted that so much.

 

And then this little, brave girl straighten up, let go of his shirt and nodded. Tears still glistening in her eyes. Stiles couldn't help himself. He surged forward and pulled her into his arms. He was so proud and felt so much love for his little girl. Tiana already lived trough so much pain, was abused, watched her entire family die, was on the run for month (and he did try not to see the similarity to Dereks life). And still she had strength left to be strong for him. Goddess, he would spoil her rotten and drown her in love.

His bond with Derek trembled with love and protectiveness as a reaction to his own feelings. He pulled back and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you. And I'm so proud of you.” Stiles stood up and clapped his hands together.

“Well, let's get the show on the road.”

Eyes flashing white, he used the same silencing spell he used on the Bedroom earlier. It already felt like a lifetime ago. On his way back to the living room Jackson squeezed his arm. A wordless 'good luck' and 'I take care of her'. Reassured that Tia wouldn't see or hear anything, Stiles went back to face the music. It wouldn't be fun, but better to get over with it.

 

The atmosphere in the living room was … well, one word to describe it would be 'tense'. Another one would be 'hostile'. _Bloodhound_ and _Raptor_ stood by the door, arms by their sides, ready to jump to action. The pack assembled themselves across the room, eyeing the _Knights_ intently. Stiles could almost smell the imminent shift to their wolf form in the air. Fantastic.

“Okay. Good. It will go like this. I'm gonna sit down, the _Knights_ gonna do the truth-spell, you lot will not interfere. After that I will, dunno, probably sleep a bit and you can at least pretend to work together and make some plans to go after Megs.” He waited for some hesitant nods before sitting down on the couch.

_Bloodhound_ shot _Raptor_ a glance, which was answered with a put out sigh and an eye roll. But when _Bloodhound_ took a step forward, his pack tensed a bit more. She lifted her hands in surrender and started to explain.

“ _Hound_ will perform the spell. He's going to touch _Red_ and smear some paste on his skin. Together with the spell it works on a hormonal level. It will burn, like his blood would start to boil. As long as his heart his healthy – which it is – there is no lasting damage that will occur. During and shortly after the spell his skin can be uncomfortable sensitive and tingle. The exhaustion will come mostly from the pain and his temporary wonky hormone level.”

In the main time _Hound_ pulled out a small glass pot, filled with a green paste. He opened it and instantly a biting smell filled the room. Knowing what would come, Stiles shed his shirt, waiting for the herb mixture to be smeared on his forehead and chest. _Hound_ murmured the words under his breath, eyes flashing for a second. And for exactly the same amount of time he felt cosy warm before it turned to uncomfortable before it turned to sitting in boiling water.

Stiles tried to take slow and even breaths. Sweat already glistening on his skin. He wanted to grid his teeth together and hiss, but he knew that would only set the pack more on edge.

 

The _Knights_ waited for a couple of minutes, ignoring the twitchy wolves. When Stiles couldn't help but dig his hands into the couch cushions, panting, only then they started the interrogation.

“Why were you at Pine Creek?”

“We knew that there were two rivalling packs. Wanted to check in before it escalated. But when we got there the fight had just started.”

“Did you follow the usual protocol?”

“I set up a barrier and started to check the edges. _The Twins_ went into the thick. I thought they wanted to use some lights to break it up.”

“Did they?”

“No.”

“How did you know?”

“Because they pulled out the guns instead of the light show. Could we speed this up a bit?” By now his breath was laboured.

His chest hurt and his head throbbed. And even though he new what to expect, he just wanted to curl himself into a ball in Dereks arms and cry a bit.

“Did you verbal, non-verbal or with your spark urged them to take part in the fight?”

“No.”

“Did you try to stop them?”

“I told them to get out, build a circle to collective knock them out. But they told me to be a good pet and do my part.” At that Derek growled and Stiles was ridiculous grateful for it.

“Why didn't you help them anyway?”

“I wanted to. But I just spotted Tia and wanted to get her to safety first. I set her up, put a cloak around her and went back. But it was already over, just a rabbit alpha left.”

“Did you speculate that they could be killed? So that you could go home?”

“I knew it would end in a mess like this. I did my usual job. Innocent and victims first, then us. Please.” He was shaking, sweat and tears rolling down his face.

Despite his intention to be strong and keep it together for the sake of his pack and especially Derek, by now it hurts so bad he just couldn't care anymore. He wanted it to be over.

Stiles whined low in his throat and started to lift his arm. Instantly Derek was by his side, draped over him, trying to take away the pain. But it only felt as if his insides were thrown against a wall. His fingers dug hard into Dereks arms.

A few seconds after the worst pain of the pull faded, Jackson shouted Tias name. Stiles had barley enough time to lift his head before the little girl jumped him.

“Hey, what's up, pup?” Derek shifted on his seat and wrapped an arm around Tia.

“Be careful. Don't touch the green stuff.” He murmured, turning his head away, so Tia wouldn't come in contact with the biting paste.

“Are you done?” His mate went into possessive alpha-wolf territory. His hurt mate and their pup in his arms, hunters in front of him. Stiles would feel proud that everything was still so civilised. Later.

_Bloodhound_ studied them for a moment.

“Had you anything to do with it? Anything at all?”

“No.” _Hound_ sighed and nodded.

“Okay, you can wash up.” He hadn't had to wait long until a warm flannel was pressed against his head, wiping away the herbs. With a relived sigh he closed his eyes.

“I'm sorry.” Jackson whispered.

“She smelled the pain. She really tried to stay away, like you wanted her to. But in the end I couldn't hold her back.”

“It's ok.” Stiles petted the girls hair.

“You did good.”

“You as well.” Strong hands shifted him until he was laying down, Tia still in his arms.

“Sleep a bit. We'll stay here.” Derek voice was soft, just like his kiss.

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So late it's not even funny anymore. And still no Beta because of reasons. Just wanted to let you know I'm still alive and haven't given up. Also - just a few chapters more before it's over. Yay.

He'd barely spoken the words before Stiles fell asleep. Their little girl considered the situation for about two seconds. Then she curled herself into a ball on top of Stiles' chest, nose stuck into his collarbones. The crown of her head nudged against the red leader around his neck.

Derek always loved the colour on his mate, and once upon a time, he probably would have found the sight of Stiles with a collar arousing. A sign of possession, showing everyone that he belonged to Derek. Now it only made him feel sick. With a last caress to both their heads, he turned to the Knights.

"Take it off." He probably should have made it sound less like an order, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"We will." Bloodhound replied coolly.

"Now!"

The Knight didn't even answer, only lifted a brow. Derek grounded his teeth together. Such a self-absorbed, arrogant asshole.

"I said, take it off!"

"And I said, we will." He could feel the heat behind his eyes, the dull pressure in his teeth and fingertips.

The nerve this man had. To threaten the alphas mate! In his own home nonetheless. Oh, he could already see all the fights he and Stiles would have because of this group of psychopaths.

However, the important part was that Stiles came back, that he would stay. And he would make sure that nobody would take away his choice again. If that meant to ignore his instincts, to beg, then so it be.

"You promised! If he would prove his innocence, you'd take it off again. You wouldn't take him with you against his will."

"I keep my promises." The man signed.

"It's better for him if he's awake. We won't take him with us." _Raptor_ snorted.

"And he would make our life hell. Besides, keeping him from his mate would be cruel."

"Yeah, because you'd never do anything cruel." Scott chipped in.

"I'd think the situation outside is proving that we won't keep anyone from their mates." The Fury shot back.

"Why don't we sit don't and think about said situation? As long as Stiles is asleep we can't leave anyway." Derek never thought he would see the day when Jackson was the voice of reason.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

"Whatever he did to the house. He said nobody could leave. No idea if the order still stands, but he hasn't said anything different. So I guess we're still trapped in here."

"Oh great."

Isaac patted his friend encouraging on the shoulder, then making his way towards the door. He barred his teeth as he passed the Knights, not letting them out of sight until he was far into the hall.

Shortly after, they heard a soft 'oof', indicating that Jackson was right and the spell was still holding strong.

"I'm making coffee." Isaac yelled back.

"I guess we have to stay here for a while... couldn't this happen after Stiles made some pie?" He muttered sullenly.

 

_Raptor_ shot an unreadable glance to her head-knight and sat down on an empty chair near a corner of the room. And Derek couldn’t suppress the thought that maybe she was on their side. Still, the prospect of being caged into the same house with not exactly friendly hunters until Stiles woke up wasn’t appeasing. Or pleasant. Or anything positive really. But he knew they had to go through with it. Preferably civilised. Because Derek was so well known for being civilised. 

When Isaac came back into the room, he carried a big wooden tray Derek couldn’t remember buying. It was loaded up to his chin, full with at least two coffee pots, milk and sugar, staked with mismatched cups and even some biscuits. God knew where he got those from. Of course, they would be appreciated anyway. Isaac placed it all on the table and crouched down next to it, looking at the little bundle on Stiles' chest.

“Hey Peanut, do you want something to drink, too?” He waited patiently until there was a barely there nod. With a small smile, he stood to get her drink but stopped after only a few steps.

“What do you want? Some cocoa?” This time her head lifted enough to see her eyes. A shake of head.

“Juice?” A nod again.

“’kay. I’ll be right back.”  Derek’s chest filled with warmth and pride. Proud that Tia was starting to trust her new pack, interact more and more with them without flinching at being spoken to. And proud that Isaac didn’t treat her differently, that he gave her a choice. Yeah, he had a good pack.

 

Meanwhile, Scott and Kira passed the coffee cups around, adding milk and sugar if needed. Lydia accepted her cup gracefully, one of her manicured fingers tapping thoughtfully against the thick porcelain. 

“As nice as this is, maybe we could use the time reasonable and talk about the next steps to get rid of that bitch outside.” She leaned forward, taking two cookies from the tray. Balancing one on the top of her knee, making sure it didn’t touch her skirt, holding the other one casually out to her right side. Where Belle blushed slightly but took the offered sweet thankfully.

“The easiest way would probably be to cast a location spell to find her.” _Bloodhound_ offered, taking a sip of his own ‘coffee’. The fact that the cup held the exact amount of milk as coffee had raised more than a few eyebrows.

“Why didn’t Stiles do that before? Shouldn’t a location spell be taught early on?” She asked.

Derek was content to let her do the talking. Everyone knew he was a bit useless at negotiations. Scott was understanding but maybe still a bit too naïve and could be persuaded too easily, as long as it didn’t endanger the pack or town. Lydia was the best choice for it. All they had to worry about was her insulting the other party due to ‘lack of intelligence’.

The _Knight_ frowned slightly, clearly trying to figure out how to formulate his next words.

“His… training, if you so will, is not yet finished. And location spells are a bit tricky. You either need something personal from them or you need to know their aura well.”

“She used my knife.” Belle spoke up.

“And Bullets aren’t exactly personal. She knew how the Knights would react, used it to hide herself, but she doesn’t know enough about Stiles Healing-powers to hit him where he’s most vulnerable.”

“And where would that be?” Lydia demanded.

“The usual. Head, Heart. Everything else can be healed quickly.”

“Stiles doesn’t know the spell. Or shouldn’t. And even if, he didn’t know her well enough to use it.” The _Knight_ continued, frown deepening.

“I will use the spell. Then _Raptor_ , _Butcher_ and I will take her down. No further planning needed.”

“The Pack will help.” Judging by the clouds on Lydia’s face it was time for Derek to take over.

“No.” Yeah, sure, if Mr. Arrogant said so.

Derek folded his arms in front of his chest and glared, waiting for an explanation.

“The Pack has nothing to do with it.” Was all they got.

“She just wants to kill my pack members.”

“She has no interest in the pack.” Derek continued to glare, not quite sure how to answer.

“We won’t let you kill her.”

“Because we’re wolves?”

“Yes.” Seriously?!

“Because you’re so much better than us?”

“No.” What was it with this man?

Derek understood him not a single bit. Not that he wanted to. It was so infuriating. Derek just wanted to kick him out and never see him again. He didn’t care where he went or what he did, as long as he – and the rest of his lot – would stay as far from his pack as possible.

“Stiles is my Mate!” He stood up, not able to sit a second longer.

“And he’s my…” The man stopped abruptly, pressing his lips together and turning his face away.

Huh.

“We won’t be better for killing her. That’s why we will do it. I’ll wait in the kitchen.” Without a further glance, he left the living room.

_Raptor_ was looking after him with sadness in her eyes.

 

 

The next few minutes passed in uncomfortable silence. The Alpha had sat down again and everyone was nursing their coffee. The wolves were confused, Belle worried. But _Raptor_ knew from the beginning that it would end like this. Knew it from the moment she saw how David looked at Stiles.

She gave him a few more minutes, drowning her coffee while it was still warm, before standing up.

“I’ll talk to him.” It was more directed at Belle than for the sake of the pack.

The kitchen was … nice. If you liked cooking or kitchens in general. Jane had no particular feelings about kitchens. Still, it was nicer than say a small kitchenette. It was light, had lots of storeroom and counter space. Apparently, that was a good thing. Once she listened an entire afternoon to Stiles waxing poetic about his dream kitchen. If she remembered correctly this one would come pretty close.

David sat at the table, coffee before him but long forgotten. She suppressed a sigh and sat down beside him. Jane wasn’t a spark, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t some powers of her own. You didn’t make it far in this business without some tricks up your sleeve. Besides, David would never talk knowing some strangers could listen in. She quickly activated a Rune on her right upper arm to keep their talk secret. Here goes the fun.

“He’s not Tobias.” That was a good a start as any other, she guessed.

“I know that. They’re just so similar. Even their aura – I know that.”

“Sure. That’s why you haven’t taken off the collar?” He didn’t answer.

“I know that you just want to feel his presence a little bit longer. But you need to let go. He’s not coming back with us.”

“I know.” His voice full of grieve.

Jane reached over to place a hand on top of his. He wouldn’t like her next words, but maybe he needed to hear them out loud.

“He’s not your son.”  And just like that, he closed off completely.

His Aura, his thoughts, his everything. Jane could barely feel him, sitting right next to him.

“He’s not coming back with us.” She continued.

“Not now, not ever again. His family is here, his pack. Look back into the living room. He’s got a kid and a mate. Even before, he was always looking for a way out. Stiles was never going to stay.” Oh, there it was. The anger.

“What do _you_ know?”

“About being a parent? Nothing at all. About being loyal? A whole damn lot. Stiles wouldn’t betray us, he won’t go around and tell anybody about us. He’ll keep our secrets secret. But the _Knights_ were never the number one in his heart.”

“He needs to protect, to care for people. It’s his nature. He will never be able to stay away.” David countered.

“He has a territory and a town to protect. A family and pack to care for. Isn’t that enough?”

“Not when he knows what’s out there.”

“David… I know you love him. And I know it’s hard. Believe me. But do you really think he would stop talking to Isabelle? They’re like siblings. Do you think he would stop trading books with _Smoker_? Do you really think he wouldn’t come if we asked for help?

“I’m not a mother. But some people you need to let go for them to stay with you. He bound his soul to the Alphas. Don’t make him suffer anymore. “

David kept still for a long while, finally letting go of a shaky sigh.

“It’s not easy.” She offered him a small if somewhat sad smile.

“It’s not supposed to be.” Her friend nodded slowly, taking another few deep breaths before closing his eyes.

Jane knew he was concentrating on his bond with Stiles, the collar that controlled him. He couldn’t take it off completely. Not after what he told the Alpha – Derek. But he would loosen it. Making him feel Stiles less. Just like Jane could barely feel Isabelle. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

And urgh – he would be insufferable on their way back. Goddess please let there be another case!


End file.
